


You Were Made to be Ruled

by jairose



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically - good guys lose, F/M, Loki wins, minor/major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5353418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jairose/pseuds/jairose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Loki's control was more absolute than a stupid punch to the face? What if he was a little smarter with his Scepter on the balcony scene with Stark? The End of the World naturally. AU after Barton wakes up. But otherwise, movie compliant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Were Made to be Ruled

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Just recently decided to make the leap and get and account over here. I have one on FF.net and so I decided to move over a few stories. AKA the complete ones and the ones I am currently caught up on. :)  
> This is an old story. I wrote it when the movie came out so take that with a grain of salt. I am immensely proud of this work though, so I hope you enjoy it too. You can also find the original (along with the original comments and fangirling) on FF if you so wish, this will just have the story.  
> I've spruced this one up a little bit, because originally I wrote Natasha as some weird mix of herself and Joss Whedon's version of her. She's kind of fixed now.

Waking up in a room, strapped to a hospital gurney, was nothing new for one Clint Barton, archer extraordinaire. Nor for Hawkeye, his alter ego. In fact, it was a fairly standard procedure in his line of work. He couldn't count on one hand how many times he had ended up in similar situations. Though, it was fairly new (even for him) to awaken with blue eyes, after being beaten in the head with Natasha's fists, and still have all the knowledge the cube had been amicable enough to part with. The Tesseract. That his Lord, Loki, had so graciously given him.

Awaken still knowing everything he needed.

Still knowing that he was fighting for his freedom, to fight for Loki.

Still caught in Loki's web. Only now, not fighting for release.

The bright light around him swam as he strained against the restraints weakly, shutting his eyes against the invading light. Like a child trying to squirm out of a parents arms. Completely and totally useless against the coarse leather softening the metals harsh bite.

"Ughh." Clint groaned, feeling the splitting head ache blossom. 

"Clint?" The carefully measured but hopeful voice of Natasha Romanov was not hard to miss but in Clint's condition, unwelcome. Really, really unwelcome. He almost growled, but felt (no,  _knew_ ) that it would make his head hurt worse. The pounding was already horrible, so he kept it in. He kept any vibration, self inflicted or otherwise, to a minimum.

Natasha was oblivious, waiting for him to fully open his eyes. Clint didn't notice either. Nor did he want to notice or care.

All Clint really wanted was Loki.

Loki and his order that would calm the inferno that was currently destroying his head. Loki and his ice that would cool the fire of Barton's mind. Loki and the freedom from thought. From... freedom. Those thoughts were followed by one pesky thought:

_Where am I?_

And another thought even more pesky then the first:

_Where is Loki?_

His head rolled back and forth as he tried to settle his mind. Calm the waves that were churning in his head. Eradicating the thoughts that were not about Loki and his reign. His freedom. It was simpler after that. When thinking about the freedom Loki had given him. It was almost too simple.

Which made it all the more comforting.

Then Clint opened his eyes, just as he calmed himself into thinking  _only_  for Loki.

Natasha was standing over him, looking into his eyes searchingly with excitement that was quickly followed immediately by the shutting down of all emotional output on her face. Her normal face. She leaned away slowly like she was stung by what she saw. And Clint couldn't even find it in himself to wonder why (but deep down he knew).

All he knew, consciously anyway, was that he was angry. Really angry. 

This was the woman who had taken him down. Taken him from his mission. Stopped him. His fists clenched. It took little to no brain power to decide to get revenge for his current predicament. It took even less brain power to do what he was going to do.

Clint did not see his best friend. One of his only friends. Who was wounded that he looked at her like an injured animal, and who was astounded that he was still being controlled by a monster, even after a 'cognitive calibration'.

No.

He saw the woman who had made his mission  _incomplete_. Who had made him  **fail**  Loki. A shiver crawled up his spine as the fact hit home. He had failed. He had failed his Lord, Loki.

Rage was too small a word to explain his wrath.

He glared at Romanov, no longer acknowledging her as Natasha. He saw a woman who was in his way. So before Romanov could extract herself, which she was leaning away to do, Clint head butted her.

Hard. With a growl.

The sickening crunch gave him a moment of joy, before he tried to follow the attack up. He couldn't of course. The straps on his arms were holding him down and he snarled. He tried to fling a leg at her neck, but was stopped short by the metal there. The biting pain of leather clinging to his skin hurt, but not as much as knowing that he had failed. Desperate to attack again, when the woman who had caused him no small amount of trouble, just sat on the ground groaning in confusion and distortion, holding her head, he snarled to himself and reached deep within himself.

His blue eyes flickered as he searched the connection he had with Loki. The connection only those that had been shown the freedom, could access. It was not completely one sided though. If Loki was looking, then Clint could access.

There was a brief feeling of interest on the responding end, and he heard, clear as day:

" _Agent Barton. What a…_ _ **pleasant**_ _surprise."_  

The voice across the other end purred, and Clint immediately relaxed into it. Loki's voice was like honey dripping over his mind. Completely shorting it as he breathed in the almost palpable scent of his voice.

" _You are not on the return trip, I see..."_

" _I am currently… incapacitated. Master."_ Clint glared at Romanov as she stared at him.

"He's still got you." She whispered, some sort of epiphany happening inside her own consciousness. Clint's head was cocked awkwardly, but he only glared as strongly as he could. Not giving her a response. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was screaming, but he was past giving in to it.

" _What are my orders for when I am of more use, sir?"_  Clint asked as he watched Agent Romanov rise from her position on the floor, holding her nose as it bled quite freely. Her eyes were hard, and had lost the softness it held at the beginning of their meeting. She pushed a button on the side of the door, muttering a choice phrase that sounded a lot like, "amnable oki" not hearing the response that Romanov gave as she left the room quickly.

Not that she could hear inside Clint's head, that is.

" _Make them regret daring to cage a god."_

Clint smirked as he waited, working the cuff for the best friction and biding his time.

This time he would not fail. That. He could promise.

_-LOKI-LOKI-LOKI-_

Agent Natasha Romanov was outside Agent Barton's room (or cell, depending on your mood), quietly leaning against a wall and damning Loki to every hell she knew. In every language she knew. In every way she knew how.

It was just like the damn bastard to give her hope of rekindling her friendship with her best friend, her only friend, only to have it pulled away. Hot tears stung her eyes, but she forced them back, angry enough that she almost allowed a few to slip. It had been years since she had cried for herself. And she refused to start now. Even if she was exhausted, her mind torn to shreds, and with a broken nose.

The sound of footsteps on tile alerted her to the fact that the button on the wall she had pressed, meant to alert the correct people of a problem, worked properly. Though, the correct people rarely included the 'Capsicle' as Stark had dubbed Steve Rodgers.

"Agent Romanov, how is he?" Captain America asked anxiously, as he walked down the hall.

Or tried to ask. Natasha wasn't in the mood for answering nicely after being punched square in the face with Clint's rather large head. She could already feel her nose cartilage shifting with every breath.

She quickly set it, ignoring the sharpest pain imaginable, and settled against the wall as the dull throbbing started.

"He's still under his control," She meant for it to sound pissed and tough and not girlish. But it came out sounding like she wanted to sob and fall into the ground and  **blank**. Captain America was not good at sensing this sort of thing, but was certainly the one to go to for comfort. "Still under his  _damn_  control."

"Is there anything we can do?" The Captain asked sadly, rather than comment on Natasha's sudden character collapse. Because, no matter how little he knew of woman, or of her, he knew that you never say anything about the obvious. Or if they were going to 'fondue' with another person.

Steve looked through the window to see Clint still straining at his entrapment; his blue eyes wide and frenzied, but with a certain calmness piercingness that unsettled him greatly. When had the world changed from human on human warfare to this? A man out of his mind because he had lost his freedom, fighting the people he had worked tirelessly next to.

"Unless we can somehow find a better way to knock Loki out of his mind… no." Agent Romanov was not one to give up, but even she was hard pressed to fight magic. How did one fight a god who could enslave on a whim? Natasha slid down the wall and sat in the hall, hands against her forehead as she tried to work out this exhausting puzzle. It helped that her head pounded from both blood loss and anger. And the bridge of her nose hurt like a bitch.

"If it is any consolation. I'm sorry." Steve said, sitting down next to her. Not touching. Not giving any response other than companionship. A woman like Romanov would surely not find that comforting.

Natasha would never admit that she appreciated it.

"You know, I thought-" Natasha laughed into her fist hysterically, silently, "I thought that if we just got him back, we'd be able to fix him. Punch him in the face, allow him to see the error of his ways… The normal way we fix problems…"

She trailed off as she looked at Steve, her impassive face back. Ready.

"And it's a big joke. Like the universe is laughing at us."

There were no tears. Natasha was still torn up (shaken up, more like it) over Dr. Banner hulking out and attacking her, but she was an assassin. Trained to deal with these kinds of situations. She'd had plenty of partners go rouge.

Never had it been against their will though. Never had it been her best friend. Never had it been  _him_.

Never had Clint Barton, the man who was the reason she was alive, betrayed her.

And that just shoved the knife of betrayal deeper.

And it hurt. It hurt a lot to know that Loki could simply destroy that on a whim. Knock down decades of trust and teambuilding with a scepter made of glowing blue energy. Alien energy. Knock down what made Clint so very human, and replace it with something as robotic and exotic as Stark's suit.

Stupid, all powerful energy.

"Is there anything you need-"

"No." Natasha cut Steve off before he could continue. "I need some time alone. That's all. I'll be fine in a few hours."

Steve almost objected but heard the small unaired, "Please" that made him nod. Just in time to turn his head at the sound of pitter-pattering footsteps.

A team of scientists mixed with a few doctors and nurses came around the corner and Natasha forced herself to rise. Ready to explain the situation before going to 'nest' in a high place, away from everyone. Until they needed her. She thought taking a page from Clint's book would work well at this moment. Especially since she was almost positive the first person to even try to take pity on her would be socked right where it hurt.

Captain America could only watch in silence, before getting up to return to the control room, hoping that Stark had stopped staring at the wall. Because if there was one thing stranger and more unnerving than Natasha having emotions, was a Stark not making fun of his uniform.


	2. You Crave Subjugation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am just going through and editing them a little before posting them, so these should all be good to go before tonight. Also how you like the different line breaks for each character! When I first wrote these chapters I remember thinking I was so freakin amazing for doing it, but now they look silly. But hey, gotta keep the integrity :)

**Warnings:** _Language. Spoilers for the movie (naturally). Death and destruction. Mindcontrol (should that even have a warning?). Also, I slightly bash people(But hey, it's gotta happen sometime, right?)._ _**Character death (Minor and Major).** _ **  
**

* * *

_The human who thinks he is a god is amusing,_  Loki thought to himself. After declining a drink so callously offered.

The human known as Tony Stark, or Iron man, was so very different from his colleagues. It was almost refreshing. In the way eating meat after a romp with vegetarianism. Seeing a light bulb in working order when all you'd had was candlelight for far too long. Rainfall after a sunny month. A hanging after much too many homicides.

Hmmm, perhaps that was more than enough imagery.

Loki decided to focus on the present. The physical. Tony Stark was pretty, interesting to look at, and a master at word play; but he wasn't essential. Just like a butterfly. Loki briefly wondered what Stark would say if he voiced his thoughts.

"-you know, you've managed to piss a bunch of us off." Stark was saying, grabbing a container of some kind of alcohol. Something Loki could have knocked back and still been standing regally. Weak alcohol that was nothing to a god.

"Oh?" Loki asked, amused. It was not often that someone lectured him (or rather, had been a long time).

"Yes, actually." Stark was saying, looking up through his eye lashes, as if waiting for a response. Loki turned more fully towards him. He was quite interesting, with that puppy-dog face of his. It was quite… different.

Loki liked different.

Loki  _collected_  different.

"What have I to fear?" Loki asked, watching Tony as he looked quite smug and proud of himself. He'd obviously been waiting for this question or something similar.

"The Avengers." Stark states almost immediately, pouring from the amber colored alcohol from its container. Loki quirked a curious eyebrow, and Stark continued as if it was paramount that Loki was told all. Or at least, a name that might not be all too important. "It's what we call ourselves. Sort of like a team. Earths-mightiest-heroes, type of thing."

 _Amusing_. Loki thought as he watched Stark blow off the 'great reveal' like he was talking about a boring book.

"Yes." Loki says, quite relaxed after the exposed knowledge was spoken. He had almost thought the Avengers were a giant three-headed cat; now  _that_  would have been something.

"I've met them."

Stark scoffed and Loki immediately narrowed his eyes, watching and listening for the next bit. Iron man may be interesting, but even he tired of pleasantries after his patience was tried for too long. Or put him in a room with his brother for more than an hour, and everyone would see who's patience would last.

"Takes us a while to get any traction- I'll give you that one." Stark was saying, as if pointing out a weakness was amusing, which it was. Loki appreciated the Iron man's humor. It was… Ironic. A human so far above any other of his kind, talking to a god as if they were equals.

Loki bared his teeth in a grin.

"But let's do a head-count here. Your brother, a demi-god,"

Loki clenched the spear in his hand, good mood evaporating but holding himself back, almost ready to snarl at the complete incompetence and arrogance of the great Iron man. Just the mention of his brother made him want to spit fire, which he was perfectly capable of doing- but he felt it would be lost on the mortal, so he held his tongue. Waiting for Stark to continue. He did pace a small bit, turning his shoulders to the Iron man.

He told himself that it would be unwise to destroy such a beautiful and unique piece of art. So he held himself back.

It was better to humor them, before totally crushing them. Loki decided. Made the victory more sweet. The conquest finer. The spoils of war greater.

The success some of the most potent.

"A super-soldier." Stark said, finishing up the pouring of his drink, oblivious to Loki and his thoughts. "Living legend, who kind of  _lives up_  to the legend." By this point, Loki had completed almost a half turn, his back half exposed. This conversation was going nowhere fast. Granted, he missed Stark slipping on the bracelets, but it matter not for what he planned next.

"A man with breath-taking anger-management issues. A- a master assassin," Oh a weak point there, Loki sensed. Seemed his little Hawk was doing more damage to the psyche of Stark and probably all of the Avengers, than previously thought.

 _Good,_  Loki thought to himself. This was getting quite amusing. Stark up on his soap-box, preaching to the choir (a particularly interesting human-term that Loki had found interesting and fitting). Loki smirked as he turned to see Stark raise a finger almost leisurely at him.

"And you. Big fella," Loki couldn't chase the smirk away, so he only turned to see Stark fully, as he accused him. "You've managed to piss off- Every. Single. One of us."

"That was the plan." Loki said, his face clearly showing his amusement on the topic at hand. He caught sight of the bracelets on Stark's wrists and couldn't help but step closer. Push him a little. It would be easy to surmise that those bracelets connected to his suit. One of the many he kept around.

Ahhh, Smart. Smart. The man really might be a genius. A diamond in the ruff as it were. Loki couldn't wait to force the enlightenment on him.

"Not a great plan." Stark said forcefully, regaining Loki's attention to his face. Drink in hand, he walked around the counter. "When they come-"

Stark added a dramatic pause. Loki briefly wondered if they shared some kind of kinship for the theatrical. It was ridiculous, because no god would have ever disgraced their line such. Though, somehow Stark's genius could be considered otherworldly.

Even Loki could admit that.

"And they will."

It had stopped being amusing almost five seconds ago.

"They'll come for you."

"I have an Army." Loki said regally, looking through Stark with narrowed eyes and a boastful smile. Trying to find out what made the Iron giant tick. It would be such a delight to tear him apart. Or better yet, having him do it himself.

Stark was closing in.

"We have a Hulk." He responded wittily. Loki gave him points for that.

"Oh- I thought the beast had wondered off." Loki said, humoring the poor Iron giant in front of him.

"You're missing the point." Tony snapped, getting pissed off. Was Banner a softspot? Apparently, Loki not playing into his hands made the poor billionaire angry.

 _Oh, can't have that now, can we?_  Loki thought to himself with a smile.

"There is no throne. There is no version of this, where you come out on top."

Loki calmly waited for him to finish his spiel. Tony felt empowered to continue in the gods silence. So he did.

" **Maybe**  your army comes.  **Maybe** it's too much for us. But it's all on you." Tony paused, trying to give it the weight of a thousand. "Cause if we can't protect the earth, you can be sure as hell we'll avenge it."

And Loki could only grin, madly and insanely as is his nature, because poor Stark thinks he has all the answers. Thinks he can outsmart a god who had been drifting in madness for much  **too**  long. Many years, drifting in madness until he only  _remembered_  madness. Well. Loki would change that. Maybe Stark needed to be introduced to the wonder that freedom under his reign could bring.

"Pretty words, Stark." Loki said, his turn to walk towards Stark. Stark's eyes momentarily flashed in well hidden panic, and he hid it expertly. Loki was sure on his course after that. "Pretty, pretty words."

There were few mortals that enticed the god in any way. The Russian turn coat disgusted him, and the super soldier annoyed him. But Stark was one of the ones he could stand. Banner, too. Stark had much of the perfect slave package. He was witty, good natured, smart (brilliant really) and he had the flare that Loki liked to call: heart. All he needed was a little push in the right direction. A smidgeon of obedience.

It would do him good. Like completing a piece of artwork after years of neglect.

"But that's all they are." Loki continued, walking forward with more purpose, until he was only a foot away. "Words."

Stark started to look nervous as Loki stepped even closer, but hid it well behind his narrowed and suspicious eyes.

"And you seem to forget-"

Loki smiled quite cruelly as he watched Starks eyes grow wider with what was happening. Loki tightened his hold on his scepter.

"Words are my domain."

And Loki lifted his scepter to imbue Stark with freedom and enslavement, watching as Stark's eyes widened and he stepped away too slowly-

Only to hear the dull ' _clink'_  of a sharp object meeting another object of a different shape. He cocked his head to the side, observing the glowing blue arc-reactor as Tony Stark smirked his play-boy, billionaire smile. Forgetting in his relief that he was so close to his enemy.

"Ahhh, guess it's true." Stark leered as Loki ' _clink'ed_  the glass again. "I don't have a heart. Then again, could be just a little bit of 'performance' issues. Hear we all get 'em- nice to know even the god-"

And Loki knew enough of anatomy from slicing up bodies with his brother that moving his scepter to more fleshy parts would yield a better load. A little to the right, perhaps? Did humans have the heart on the right or left?

He shrugged and picked a side.

He was not wrong.

Stark gasped, his eyes overflowing with the darkest blue imaginable, that it was almost black. The scepter point leaving the spot right over where his true heart would be as the glass he had been holding fell to the floor and promptly shattered.

It took longer for the blue to turn into a more healthy shade. Much longer than the scientists had been, and quite a bit longer than Clint's. But then again, the former Avenger had had time to prepare. He'd not been quite as caught off guard as his other slaves.

"Hello my Iron man, are you ready to serve me?" Loki asked, leaning forward to trail a finger down the jawline of the once Tony Stark, just to see the reaction it would garner. It was always amusing to see the complete one-eighty most of his minions did as their minds switched over to their true purpose: Pleasing him.

Stark in turn leaned forward, unaware of how it could possibly be interpreted. Not even aware in his muddled brain that just minutes ago he had been a horrible ass to the man. Loki only smiled as Stark breathed deeply, inhaling his first breath of his new life.

As his eyes opened wide, the blue showing clear, Loki got the first look into Stark's soul.

Oh, this would be fun. Loki smirked.

Stark's entire life was a parody of his humor. Dark. Intense. Painted with colors that had never been seen by human eye. Emotions were strong. Jealousy most prominent as well as self-depressing analytical thinking. Suicidal to a point. And above all, Stark had been the dominate personality in his life. Until Loki.

The humans would call what Stark was feeling a deep longing for being put in his place, almost a fetish, but Loki saw what it really was: The darkness that all humans hid deep within themselves.

The craving to be subjugated and put in their place.

Who would have thought out of all his minions that Stark would accept that the quickest?

Pure submissiveness was always enjoyed in a pet, though, so he didn't complain a bit.

"Of course, Sir. I live to serve you." Stark said, and there was a perverse sense of pleasure knowing that the word 'Sir' would be reserved for him, and him alone. Loki would make certain of it.

"I am very sorry for my earlier comments. I was very rude." Stark apologized, looking properly remorseful.

"I did not… know what I know now."

Loki could only stand taller as Stark asked, in a voice very pleasing to his ears, "How may I serve you?"

Loki could think of a billion things, but remembered his first purpose and put it forward. Making it sear itself onto the forefront of Stark's mind.

"Make me proud." Loki grinned, pushing Stark's face away towards the window. Pointing to a billowing smoke cloud. "Bring me the Hulk."

Iron man complied promptly and immediately, showing off his AI and suit along the way. Jarvis was very polite for a computer and Loki had quite an interesting conversation as he was given full command of everything Stark owned.

Loki was quite delighted to watch it all go down, especially when Tony Stark completed his transformation to Iron man and flew off to retrieve his friend.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-FURY-FURY-FURY-

"Communication with Stark had been down for almost ten minutes, Sir." Agent Maria Hill was told exactly three minutes after Stark was already lost. Nobody would know for another ten minutes at least, that Stark's eyes were the unnatural shade of blue Loki preferred in his followers. But his actions would soon be alerting them.

"Try and reconnect with him." The commander of the ship ordered, watching the bustle of the crew with anxious eyes. Fury had been pulled away for a meeting with the Council. And Maria would have been lying if she said she was not worried. Mostly because Fury was returning, looking increasingly pissed off.

Not good.

"We've lost Stark." Hill reported as he stepped up behind her. Receiving a grunt for her efforts.

"As in communication wise, or he's gone?" Fury questioned a moment later. Not holding his breath for a better response. If they lost Stark… Fury shook his head, they couldn't afford to think that way. They were already a bad ways in.

"Communication, Sir." She responded dutifully. She heard the rough sigh as she looked over the specs for the air-ship. They were running on borrowed time, but the ship would hold for the foreseeable future. If there was, in fact, a future at all.

"They want to launch Phase 2." Fury whispered next to Agent Hill, who stiffened at the mere mention of the name. "I want all Jets grounded. If they are not already, make sure they get on either dry land, or back here."

She nodded stiffly as he mind ran away with the possibilities of the horrors that could release on the world. A bomb going off anywhere near Manhattan would assure that future generations would never see the city. Not to mention any hope of reusing the Avengers if they succeeded, died in the fire.

Mariah Hill called out the order to ground all Jets five seconds too late.

Though in this particular order of events, it would not matter, because Agent Barton had released himself from his shackles, silently and efficiently, and was now heading towards the flight deck- ready to make his Master proud.

And God help anyone who was on that deck for the next three and a half minutes.

_-*-HAWKEYE-_-HAWKEYE-*-_

Nobody can say that Clint Barton, AKA Hawkeye, doesn't have balls. Even if those balls currently are under employment unwillingly. Or rather, without permission.

It took balls to join the Military without even the most pitiful of literary skills. It took balls to become the best sharp-shooter this side of the equator, and destroy his mentor on the side. And it took a lot of balls to dislocate both thumbs (without fainting), release his arms, put his thumbs back in working order (again, without fainting), and then proceed to wait patiently for almost an hour to snap the neck of the next orderly who dared to enter.

Though on autopilot, escaping before anyone noticed he was gone, was a little less balls-y. If he was in his right mind, he probably would have had a smart-ass comment, but he was not. And Loki had already streamed into his head the fall of the Iron man.

He only smiled, because this meant the end for the Avengers before the poor group was even in its infancy.

He passed the ruined area of Banners lab, and saw his bow and his quiver on display for all to see. Did they really think he wasn't going to escape? He smiled as he walked forward through the ruined doorway. Though, to be fair, the smile would have scared small children.

The quiver sitting all alone, next to his bow was mouth-watering to the weaponless Clint. It didn't take a lot of brains to grab it, rearrange himself and then sprint silently through the hall until he reached an area blow up, with a clear view into the vents.

The hulk had most likely done this damage. Unsurprisingly, Clint was more impressed with the size of the hole than the actual damage to the structure.

An idea forming in Clint's mind about how best to incapacitate the entire hull arrived moments later, just as he cut another soldiers throat. That made the count almost a hundred people he had taken out on Loki's orders. Part of him was smug as a bug in a rug, and the other part wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Alone if possible.

Clint was glad that part of his brain was getting quieter and quieter. Smaller and smaller. Like a puddle in the hot sun.

It was annoying to have a moral compass trying to stop you from working, and Clint shoved it far in the back of his mind as he truly began his work.

Shimming into the vents, he headed off into the area he knew, from blueprints he had studied relentlessly, that it lead to the air strips, both levels, and the bunker. It took him almost five minutes to get to the place he needed to be, but then, with that, it only took him a minute to completely dispatch the entire team loading up three planes.

Approximately twelve people, but only nine arrows. The other three had had the displeasure of meeting his knife. The pilot in the Jet with the bomb though, he got a snapped neck for his troubles. Even if Agent Barton didn't quite realized he had saved the world. For how long, was a different question.

Clint smiled to himself as he pulled arrow after arrow out of the bodies, cleaning them off on his black cargo pants before grabbing a couple cans of gasoline and kicking them over in different directions. In only a few minutes, he had everything set up for disaster if anyone even tried to take off. Any kind of heat in this environment, any kind of spark; and it would be good-bye pilot.

If he was lucky, one plane or helicopter would be able to take off.

If he was lucky.

Agent Barton smiled, as he hitched his quiver higher, and started to head to the control center. Back to the little place he'd first made his shot at Fury and the computers. His knife ready, he made it to the control center with only twenty more bodies on his conscious. Somewhere in his mind, he wondered if Loki would care too terribly if he just blew up the place.

He dared not disturb his Lord now though, because on earth the fight was just heating up.

 


	3. Is This Not Simpler?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geesh - direct quote from me on this chapter: "You guys are wonderful! :D Like SuperMegaFoxySexyAwesomeHot." Hahah, love it! Also, more fun facts, all the titles are quotes from Loki himself!! ;P Once again, cute little baby me was adorbs. Always trying to make things connect.

 

Captain America, Natasha Romanov, and Thor were the only ones on the ground, fighting and winning. The Hulk was just smashing everything, so it was unclear who was winning in those battles. Without Clint's support from the sky, they had lost ground almost as fast as they had gained it at most points. And nobody had the faintest clue where Stark had gone off to, besides he had to change his suit because of the damage. Natasha remembered faintly that he had said something about 'Loki'.

And nobody had any idea how long that would take.

Captain America and Thor were currently smashing in faces and taking numbers. The alien warriors falling at their feet as they sped towards the humans. Thor and Steve were having none of it, and tried to save as many as they could. Natasha kept ground, as the warriors approached and dispatched them with fancy tricks and impressive acts of gymnastic-martial arts. As well as a gun whenever she could steal one.

And would have continued to protect and destroy, but was getting fed up with the giant glowing blue lantern in the sky that was allowing the aliens entry into their previously free world.

"We need to shut down the portal!" Natasha shouted, looking up at Stark tower, and wishing Tony would have built a building a little less conspicuous. What was so bad about a house in Hawaii? Or even a flat in Manhattan? Captain America paused in his ass-thumping to watch the moment of revelation on Natasha's face. It was as she looked towards one of the many hover-boards headed their way.

Natasha looked to him at the same time he looked at her. He almost started saying, "no, no, no, no" like it would help.

But it wouldn't.

So he didn't.

"Give me a lift?" She yelled over the sound of destruction.

"You sure?" He asked, stepping back to the farthest edge of the bridge. Calculating in his own particularly slow way just how much force would get Natasha up in the sky. He never claimed to be a rocket scientist, so this would be interesting.

"Yeah." She replied looking uneasy as she backed up as far as she could go, as well. Thor protected their right flank as the wall of cars protected their left. "Can't be too hard, right?"

Captain said nothing as she ran at him, getting the lift she so desperately needed from his shield and landing unsteadily on the back of a hover board. Wibble-wobbling to-and-fro as she climbed and battled her way into control.

The Captain could only hope, as a fist swung at his face, that Natasha would be alright.

HULK _SMAS_ **H** ULK _SMAS_ **H** ULK _SMAS_ **H** ULK

The Hulk was in control.

He was smashing. He was crashing. He was pissed. But overall, he had a good grip on exactly what was going on. It was a perk of being able to call Banners anger to light.

The Hulk was actually calmer when that happened. When both sides agreed on something. When Banner gave the control over easily. It made it less of a fight whenever The Hulk waned to preserve their body and life.

Banner agreed sometimes that Smashing was all they could do, whereas the Hulk wanted to smash all the time. It wasn't a conscious effort on either's part to think this way. Banner was just as he was. And so was the Hulk.

"Help!" He heard from some nameless woman. A spark stirred as he thought it faintly sounded like Betty.

He held nothing back as he attacked the aliens surrounding the woman and the others. It was almost funny to watch them blast him with energy, just for him to get pissed and throw it all back at them. With ten times the ferocity. Ten times the most weakest of their attack.

The humans were huddled in a group as he finished tearing off the head of one of the aliens. The Hulk had no concept of how creepy, and disgusting most humans would find what he was doing- and therefore didn't even blink as he turned to make sure the humans were okay. He was covered in blood from many dead beings.

They screamed and ran into a building, quickly forgetting that this green muscle giant had saved their lives.

The Hulk was angry for a moment, before Banner interfered. Pushing his anger onto the snagging bullets that were currently trying (and failing) to pierce his hide. The Hulk was prone to forget anyway, so quickly turned his inferno of rage onto the alien warriors, who were quickly seeing how horrible an idea it was to attack when his back was turned.

They learned minutes later that attacking him at all was more of a death sentence than a battle for glory.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-FURY-FURY-FURY-

Fury was… well, furious.

Almost a fourth of his  _highly,_   **trained** intelligent soldiers had gone AWOL, just on the ship. Agent Barton had been missing for an immeasurable amount of time. And for some reason, nobody could get ahold of Stark. As time passed by, Fury worried that they never would.

"How the hell did I lose control so fast?" Fury muttered to himself as he looked over the control panel in front of him. Agent Hill was currently making the rounds, checking up on the destruction down below. Surprisingly enough, none of the airplanes rigged to set off the Phase two missiles had left the hanger. Someone had come on the com-system moments after the call and said nobody had left, and that every aircraft that could fly was grounded.

Nobody had left.

Literally. Nobody.

Nothing was heard after the last call.

That was how they found that Agent Barton had escaped. If the dead body in his cell wasn't enough evidence; the fact that the entire flight deck smelled of gasoline and blood, did. Well, that and the fact that he left a trail of bodies in his wake, before disappearing into the air vents and making everyone paranoid as hell.

"How is it looking on the ground?" Fury asked some nameless drone, who glanced up from his work in panic. It was obvious with what he was watching that it was going less than ideal. Fury had seen soldiers pale from blood loss and fear, and knew that the particular shade of whiteness was due to the latter. Even for a runty guy, he was sweating a lot, too.

It was the same man who had been caught playing video games by Stark.

Fury was starting to hate them all.

"Bad, sir."

"And what constitutes as bad, soldier?" Fury asked, glaring with his one good eye.

"The Captain and Thor have each other's backs, but everyone else is solo. Agent Romanov is going for the portal. The Hulk has been released… We've caught sight of Stark…" The man stopped short as if he was unsure. Fury glared at him.

"But-uh- he's, well… not fighting, sir." The solider stumbled over his words at the end. And he pushed his console for Fury to see.

"Look."

He glanced over.

And continued glancing at, and continued, and continued.

Fury was facing him, mouth dropped. This could not be happening.

In his seven years as Director of SHIELD, nothing like this shit storm had ever befallen them.

They'd had to deal with a billionaire playboy, who all of the sudden gaining a moral stand not uncommon to that of a war-veteran; had to deal with a demi-god and his pissing war with his brother; had to try and track Dr. Banner through insect infested jungles, malaria infested cities, and helpless countries-all while staying silent; and had to try and mentally rehabilitate the one and only Captain of the country because he was out of his era and sorely depressed.

But this…

This took the cake.

Aliens were attacking and succeeding in their plot, with Loki being batshit crazy and taking over any of his SHIELD operatives he sent at him, making them his monkey henchmen.  **Furthermore** , the only people standing in the way of total destruction and earths enslavement was a bunch of misfits in tights, who just so happened to be led by the heroic and slightly alcoholic Tony Stark and the depressed but ambitious Captain.

Add on the fact that it looked to the entire world as if Stark had defected, based on how many humans he had already killed in the time Fury had been looking at the screen; and Fury had to wonder:

What. The. Hell.

"What the hell do you mean, 'he's not fighting'?" He questioned in a voice that was literally dripping with venom. Inside he was daring Starks to have gone and gotten enslaved. Just daring him. But even he could see that Stark wasn't fighting.

He was  _slaughtering_.

"Well sir. It seems like he is-" Whatever he was going to say was cut off by an arrow in his eye socket, followed by one in the computer he was stationed at. Whatever the arrow had meant to be doing, it was doing, because the computer was smoking seconds later, and a rapid movement of zeros and ones flew across the screen in a binary code so ancient even Fury had a hard time looking away.

Fury ducked down, hiding behind the raised stand of the center of the room, everyone else followed his example as quickly as they could. Some too slow. Yells and cries of shock settled around in the chaos, but no more arrows were loosed on them.

Something much worse was.

"I want a team in the top levels." Fury ordered on his ear-piece as a flurry of bullets attacked the ground around him- somehow missing most of the computers.

"Barton is making a mockery of us in the control room, most likely in the west wing. Does anyone hear me?"

"Team seven, copy. We're here." The relief Fury felt at that moment was ruined by a sound on the other side of the radio before it went out and he tried for another team. The sound of gurgling. In this situation, it was not likely the gurgling was with saltwater.

Barton had them.

Fury cursed heavily.

In the control room, people had still not moved from their positions, too frightened of the sniper set up to kill them all.

And for good reason, too.

Fury could only groan, and try to plan his way out from a sniper he had hand-picked. Even knowing all of Hawkeyes weaknesses wouldn't help if he couldn't get close enough to attack him back.

 _How does Loki manage to_ _ **always**_ _get the most valuable ones of the lot?_  Fury asked himself as an arrow buried its way next to his foot.

He was sure that Stark had gone and gotten himself captured. Add on top of that that Clint was holding them all hostage- things would not end well.

There was also another thing Fury was sure of:

Agent Clint Barton was missing. On purpose.

_-*-HAWKEYE-_-HAWKEYE-*-_

It was fun to watch them squirm, Hawkeye decided. Watching them all duck for cover and crawl over each other to save themselves. He'd already dispatched the poor soldiers who had tried to enter without his permission. They'd heard the commotion, gotten the call and entered the room not paying enough attention. Only half a minute and fully trained soldiers were reduced to piles of flesh and dead.

Five slit throats and an arrow in the eye later (plus a giant pile of weapons he had pilfered), and he was back on his perch, watching the control room dissolve into chaos. He'd shot a few choice arrows, to scare them. Mostly to make them think he had a plan. He saved his last five though, and used the soldier's guns to force the maggots below to tremble in fear.

 _Honestly though,_  Clint though smugly,  _Who needs a plan when you have these kind of people?_

One such person had practically sacrificed another person to get the better spot. One that Clint could still shoot at and kill the person hiding behind, so it was in vain. Clint had sneered and shot the idiot without remorse. All the while thinking that this, this was the reason that they needed to bow to Loki and allow themselves to be ruled.

All the chaos could be avoided if they just gave in and settled down for the silence that would come. Silence from their mouths, from their actions, and above all for dissident. Clint could picture the world in his mind.

The small voice in the back of his mind had been silenced, and now he lived to only hear Loki's commands. He had not heard or received any commands since first waking, and he was petulant enough to think he deserved it after being such a good servant.

Watching everyone on the command center floor hiding, with the odd limbs sticking out, made him want to create chaos, but that was unnecessary because at the moment Fury jumped out and tried shooting the spot he was at.

Giving hope as he dashed it.

It would have probably hit Clint, if he was aiming at the right spot. Clint, for his part, had found the perfect perch, able to see everything while nobody could see him. A raised ledge made of bullet proof glass, hidden behind a steel wall.

He saw the confusion flitter across Fury's one good eye, and thought that Loki wouldn't care too terribly much if he killed the director.

Besides, he's said to make them regret putting him in a cage.

Killing the director sounded like a good idea to make them regret every decision they'd ever made.

He even lined up the shot and was ready to make him regret ever pissing off his master, before he thought about it for a split second more. Fury had dashed into hiding once again and he had missed his shot, but he smiled because he had thought up the perfect thing.

Fury would pay, but it would be slow coming.

-IRON|-[ **-O-** ]-|MAN-

Meanwhile, Tony Stark was flying over Manhattan.

Frightening every person on the streets that was not already peeing their pants from gigantic worm-turtles and aliens who's breath stank worse than a hillbillies pit stop. He had opened fire on everyone, and nobody had escaped from his suits precision.

Having his eyes opened to the world of Loki and his subservience was like having the blinders he'd had on his whole life lifted. Stupid things like social norms that he'd never cared for anyway, but still affected him were nothing in the face of pleasing Loki. Things like other people caring about what he said were gone, because only Loki mattered. No matter what, the rewards outweighed any risk Loki asked of him.

But there was also this pesky itch in his mind, telling him that one thing mattered. Well, besides the world, and humans, and things that  **didn't**  matter.

_Pepper._

It was faint, and brief, and he pushed it away whenever it came up because he had a  _mission_ , but it was still there. Like a niggling in the back of his mind. Sending him flashes almost desperately of a time, on a roof, and a kiss shared quite passionately (but softly, which made him ponder because he wasn't a soft man even before Loki). He wondered if Clint felt the same with Natasha, because even Stark knew that Pepper was a woman who he was attached too. Like Natasha and Clint, but very different.

_Pepper._

Who would disapprove of all of his actions.

Soon it didn't matter because he came across a group of people and opened fire. They didn't even have enough time to scream before they were felled. Bullets ripping and tearing as was their design. A strange but completely masochistic side of Tony was delighted by the destruction. That part of him was growing, while the stupid humanitarian part was quieted and shoved into a closet. He likened it to being told all the rules he had lived by were torn down and he was free to do as he wanted- as long as Loki said it was okay.

His rule was Loki. His life was Loki's.

Freedom had never felt so good.

Though that small part of him said that this wasn't freedom- This was enslavement- was shut up time and time again and getting fainter. It kept trying to entice him by speaking to his better side. Iron man. The man who saved people.

Iron man didn't care for titles, unless they were given to him by Loki, so he ignored that side of him completely.

And as it quieted, he found others to destroy.

_Pepper._


	4. Where is my Disadvantage?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anddddd another one bites the dust - and another one does - and another one does. Also, things are getting darker, what can ya do?

 

Natasha would be lying if she told you she wasn't scared.

She was scared of a lot of things right now. Falling to her death being the main one, but followed closely by how she was going to get down, how she was going to fight Loki, and how awful it would be if Clint was never freed from the bastards control (which she knew somehow, he had to be able to be freed from).

She was afraid that she was going to die. Alone, fighting for a country that wasn't even hers. She would be dead and on her way to hell before anyone noticed. After all, Russian spies don't normally last as long as she had. It should be considered a blessing she had made it this far.

She was controlling the alien who had had the poor insight to be the one piloting the aircraft she'd commandeered. The two daggers helped to steer, but even Natasha was honest when saying it was hard, and she was probably not going to make it, and  _ohgosh_  somebody help (because the word God sounds wrong at the moment, what with fighting two of them).

Though she kept it bottled up. Deep inside herself as she flew as steadily as she could towards her destruction.

And her destruction did not come as she wanted it to.

She arrived at the top of the tower, jumping down as the alien sped off into a building, terminating its pitiful existence. Eric Selvig was standing next to the portal device, staring up at it in wonder. His glassy eyes were muffled and spoiled, and completely hid the real Eric from view. His eyes gazed up and up and up-

Natasha's heart constricted painfully as she realized how big the device was. From the ground it had looked like a pencil. It's actual size was more along the lines of a three semi's stacked.

"How do I shut it down?" She hissed, grabbing the unsuspecting scientist by his front and dangling him over the side of the building, faster than Eric had the time to even shriek. He only yelped before looking at her blankly. She knew that hitting him in the head would only make him stumble, and not give him back the will to save his planet.

Just like Clint. Her heart pitter-pattered pitifully.

"You don't." The scientist said, smirking as he looked at his eyes showed a moment of confusion as he asked, "But why would you want to? Loki has such glorious  **purpose**."

Natasha said nothing as she threw him to the ground (away from the side of the building), walking steadily forward towards the device with the force of the Hulk as her guide. She made it two feet before being bounced off the side of the air as if she was only drops of rain on an umbrella.

A forcefield.

In a sudden dash of both anger and bitterness, which completely made her forget she had pistols- she rushed it, pounding on it with the side of her fist. The thumping was rhythmic and sent pangs of ache up her arms, but she ignored the pain, already used to it. And to be honest- the physical pain was much more bearable than the emotional pain.

Better than the hopelessness bubbling up her throat and swallowing her voice.

After a half of minute of bashing her fists to a pulp, she leaned her head against the cold, air bubble and heaved a deep breath.

How the hell was she supposed to stop it?

"You can't stop it." Eric repeated as if reading her mind, not bothering to rise from his position on the ground, staring towards the sky. The force was stopping Natasha from going forward, so she was left staring at the sky as well. In horror.

And for the first time that day, Natasha was beginning to think she wouldn't be able to save the world. Nor Clint. Nor SHIELD.

Because the portal was opening even wider.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-FURY-FURY-FURY-

"Damn it!" Fury cursed, ducking behind another desk and hiding. They'd been planning cat and mouse for almost ten minutes. Hawkeye would shoot, Fury would try and run, Hawkeye would succeeding in cornering him with solo bullets. Fury was still relatively safe- Any longer though and something bad was bound to happen. He'd yet to catch even a glance of Agent Barton, but he knew in the general vicinity that he was in.

The saying about 'horseshoes and hand grenades' was very ironic at the moment.

Fury kept trying to get to any teams on his radio, before realizing that the reason they weren't responding was probably because Agent Barton had killed them all. Or at least the team leaders.

A hundred and twenty people, gone.

Shit.

After this was over, he'd make sure Loki would pay with his blood. Damn the political consequences.

Another shot harangued near his head and he instinctively ducked farther. It was almost like Agent Barton could tell when he thought something ill-willed towards Loki. Though, the times between the thoughts were getting increasingly shallower. Every other thought was to the effect of wanting to drown Loki as if he was a deformed potato…

Yes. Yes he was tired. Exhausted. More than ready to completely strangle Hawkeye.

"Can  _anyone_  get a hit on him?" Fury shouted, getting a bullet near his shoulder in response. Oh God, how many people were even still alive out there?

Nobody responded and Fury sank to the ground further, mind racing as he realized Hawkeye had had them cornered for almost ten minutes already.

His heart sunk in horror as he leaned his head against the counter, _What about Mariah?_

_-_-LOKI-_-.-_-LOKI-_-.-_-LOKI-_-_

To say Loki was ecstatic would be the understatement of the century. Jarvis, his Iron man's computer responded to his commands now, and had alerted him to the fact of Natasha being on the roof. He could have gone after her (killed her easily with the help of the AI), but where was the fun in that?

_His servants needed the extra orders,_  he thought with a grin. Plus, he'd promised the ex-Russian bitch a much more fitting end from Hawkeye than he would ever be able to grant her. Intimacy in death that even his finesse would never be able to garner. He owned it to her.

Loki smirked as he lounged on the couch, listening to the sound of the aliens destroying everything. Music to his ears.

"Would you like anything to drink Mr. Laufyson?" Jarvis asked, projecting a limited menu in front of him fill with many different delicacies.

He waved it away and politely said, "Not now, Jarvis."

"Very well, sir."

And he listened as Jarvis went back on the defensive and muted himself.

He listened to the thoughts of his minions, too.

Clint had completely succumbed by this point, and no longer had that increasingly annoying buzz of morality to deal with. It had been almost an hour and a half since he had woken up; Clint had not even thought of human things in that time. He was holing Fury up with a room full of half dead soldiers (half dead because they were living on borrowed time and also literally-  _half dead_.). Loki could only smirk as he thought of justice being served very finely.

Trap a god and the punishment shall be ten times more severe. Did Fury see the paralleles? Trappings and what not?

Fitting than, that over thirty people were trapped like badgers in a corner?

Loki thought yes.

Eric had barely been a problem to begin with, so he was up on the roof with Natasha, who had apparently just kind of given up on any kind of intelligent way to disarm the portal and was throwing rocks at it. Eric was befuddled by the actions, but left her alone, knowing he should not interfere with a mad woman.

A temper tantrum? That was the best SHIELD had to go against him?

Weaklings.

He scoffed at the clearly ludicrous action going on the roof. He debated telling Eric to bring her down, and decided against it. Let the woman waste her time. He thought better to think about Tony. At least his newest minion was keeping things  _interesting_.

_Ahhh,_  he breathed, feeling the connection he gave the Iron man was most rewarding.

Iron man, for all his glory and human efforts, was very much okay with killing. For a man fighting for peace, he had a strategic mind and a superb sense of destruction. That had already succumbed a good deal to his ministrations, and was now set on autopilot of kill, annihilate, and war. Though there had been a moment where 'Pepper' kept flashing through Stark's mind. He'd manually shut that down with a simple command, and Tony had flew faster. Yet, Pepper still managed to hold his mind. That would have to be fixed.

Stark had then been distracted for all of five seconds until he met the Hulk.

In fact, the battle was still raging on right now.

_Interesting_  was not what their fight was.

It was utterly  **brilliant**.

/^\  **AGENT~HILL**  /^\  **AGENT~HILL**  /^\  **AGENT~HILL**  /^\

Agent Mariah Hill was sitting next to two dead bodies slumped over in defeat. Pain still etched on their faces as they had died of slow agony-inducing bullets through their shoulders and a lot of blood lose, and one through the face. She leaned heavily against the side of the computer console and tried to think of some kind of plan to save the rest of them.

She thought nothing and everything through the fuzziness in her brain.

She'd heard Fury shouting into his radio, giving away his position time and time again. Then finally shouting out to everyone else. Trying for a response.

He got none.

Mostly because Mariah couldn't even muster the strength to move her throat muscles except to groan lowly. Too lowly. It was more of a gurgle than anything.

How had Fury not noticed that only a few of the shots were directed his way? That almost everyone in the control room was either injured, dead, or on the list to be…

She could have responded a few minutes ago. Would have, if it wasn't for the fact that almost a minute ago she had raised her head above the level of the counter and gotten a bullet to the throat for her efforts.

Things were getting hazy as she tried to breath evenly, a hand clutched to her bleeding wound in resignation.

_Was this how it felt for Coulson?_

The panic had settled to a deep hatred for Loki.

Which was slowly settling into a kind of hazy, sunlight glow.

"Is there anyone left?" Fury screamed into his radio (also to everyone in the room) as Mariah finally lost the will to keep her hand against the bullet wound.

Dying wasn't as scary as she thought. Kind of like settling for going to sleep with the pain still prickling, but now being dulled.

The resignation was pure bitterness though before she closed her eyes. For the last time.

HULK _SMAS_ **H** ULK _SMAS_ **H** ULK _SMAS_ **H** ULK

Bruce Banner was many things. A brilliant scientist, a doctor, a son, a nice guy, and an all-around swell person.

Hulk on the other hand, was uncontrollable and had one thing going for him: His ability to smash.

Smash the aliens. Smash the turtle-aliens. Smash the sidewalk. Smash the enemy. Smash emotions. Smash food. Smash threat. Smash dolphin. Smash everything.

Smash  _someone_.

And that was what he had been doing, until five seconds prior, where a metal fist had hit him in the back of his head. Sending a bizarrely wicked arc of pain through his head. It hurt, because Tony Stark had used all of his power in that hit, and it showed. The metal Stark had used in this particular suit was more powerful than diamonds at some points, more impenetrable than fourteen feet of pure steel.

And the only material powerful enough to not dent on impact with a being of Hulk's caliber.

The Hulk turned on Iron man, staring at him incredulously as he snarled, which came out in a bizarre half-whimper.

"Come along Banner." Stark's voice exited the machine softly, like coaxing a rabid animal, but oddly without the fear that usually accompanied suck an action. Banner was hard pressed not to settle down and deflate (a response he was not used to, except in Stark's presence), until he caught the next words.

"You should de-hulk, Bruce. Take a load off. Maybe put a few thoughts into your head?"

If the hulk was confused before about being hit in the back of the head by his only good friend, who had stuck up for him time and time again- and had liked him- then he was completely flabbergasted by this change of events. Tony actually liked it when he Hulk'ed out. Thought it was brilliant.

He was the only one.

Where did this new Tony come from?

Stark's arc-reactor glowed through the dust that the Hulk had thrown up in his smashing rage. And for all intents and purposes; Tony was the same as he always was. He looked like Iron man. Acted like Iron man.

But something was clearly off.

The Hulk didn't know what to do. It was confusion at its finest.

The Hulk liked Tony on the base fact (if only the base fact) that Stark liked him. He was a simple creature that way. Someone liked him, he liked them back. Someone hated him, he hated back. Someone hit him. He smashed back.

But Stark had hit him, and he liked him. What was he to do?

He was even more confused.

And confusion usually led to anger.

But this was Stark… He didn't want to get angry at Stark.

And he could have gotten angry.

Or would have, until Tony so politely lowered his visor. Or raised it.

The blue eyes that were not Tony's regarded the Hulk as if it was still Tony behind those unnatural eyes. Which was a lie. Which made the Hulk angry. Pissed. Smash-enabled. When the Hulk was truly angry, it was a sight to see. Especially when he felt as if he had been tricked. Or as if something had taken something from him.

And everyone gets pissed when they think that their friend has been taken unjustly and replaced by an alien.

The Hulk is no exception. In fact, he made the exception null and void.

He growled out a loud yell and rushed Stark, who merely side-glided. The Hulk fell past him, right into a building (some bank). Crushing one of the support beams. He pulled himself out and repeated the maneuver, and received the same results: Stark moving, one support beam down.

It wouldn't be long before the building would become unstable enough to need to 'boom'. Stark approximated five, maybe ten minutes.

He needed it in two.

Possessed eyes narrowing, he threw calculation after calculation through his amazing brain and came up with a solution, just as the Hulk was shaking his head and turning for the sixteenth time. Baring his teeth and running at Stark, which was almost slow motion as his brain decelerated into acceleration as well.

Narrowing his eyes in concentration as the Hulk exited the building to attack again, in a very predictable pattern, Stark flew right by him, knocking out support beam after support beam with a carefully pointed laser. The Hulk followed closely behind, screaming in brutish anger. Understandable anger, but brutish.

If there was one thing that Stark enjoyed about being under Loki's rule, other than being under  _Loki's rule_ , was that his mind was calculated and cold. Able to run calculations faster and more efficiently than ever before. With no pesky thoughts of parties, or jobs, or responsibilities; he had the entirety of his head to serve Loki.

And serve Loki he did.

He led the Hulk to the end of the building that would collapse, planting the trap carefully enough. Not even the Hulk would be able to stay Angry when an entire building collapsed on top of them, right?

3…

He would need to knock Banner out when he de-hulked, because that was the only sure fire way to get him alive and compliant.

2…

Hulk was in position and snarling at him, gaining on him fast: but not unpredictably. The Hulk was a predictable beast. One of the only ones. Stark only smiled, closing his visor and waving cheerily. His humor still intact even though the word Pepper kept echoing like a bad taste of wine, sopping in bad humor.

1…

The whole building came down and with it The Hulk.

-=- _ **A**_ _vengers_ -=-

Captain America and Thor were tiring.

Steve was a super soldier, not a god. Thor was amazing, but not even he could battle on for five hours with only Steve as backup.

They had been 'clashing and going for another bout' with no foreseeable end in sight for almost an hour. The forces they were up against didn't seem to be thinning, either. Absolutely no communication was had with the rest of their team except for a blip from Natasha that said:

"Impossible to shut down- Portal -Need help."

Thor and Steve had looked at each other before nodding once. Their silent agreement one of the outcomes from fighting side by side for so long.

The people on the ground would have to wait. They had to attack at the root of the problem.

"I can fly us there." Thor said, grabbing Steve by the back of his suit. Captain America could only nod as he was soon blasted into the heavens. Hoping that whatever was going on up in the sky, could be easily stopped.

It took all of five minutes to leap to the very top of Stark's tower.

It took almost twenty to stop staring and trying to figure out the huge blue light engulfing half the sky and spewing monsters.

It only took a minute, at most, while the whole group was arguing about their next course of action, before Loki appeared on the roof top, when they noticed him. He stood next to a confused Eric, and waited patiently for his brother to see him. Or any of the Avengers.

Thor noticed him first, about a few minutes in, as he threw his hand and bellowed, unknowingly in Loki's direction.

"-Loki does not just make things-"He interrupted himself by staring at Loki.

Everyone's eyes were wide as they got a look at what Loki was doing: Which was a whole lot of nothing and boasting.

"Hello, Thor. Agent Rodger. Agent Romanov." The smirk on his face spoke of insanity. Kittens in boxes playing with yarn while mewling at fire  _playfully_. The kind of insanity where the pear fruit actually made  **some form**  of sense.

"Dropped by for a visit did you? If you'll wait only a moment, Stark should be back."

Steve's eyes flashed as Thor bared his teeth in a kind of sad-furious way.

"What'd you do to Tony?" Natasha demanded.

"Just made him… see the light, as it were." Loki answered, quite truthfully.

Natasha walked forward angrily, not one to back down; even from a god.

"Loki, you bast-" Whatever Natasha was about to say was cut off. A large gust of wind, blowing up the dust around them in a huge gust, which made them cover their eyes momentarily, in turn making them miss the landing of Iron man and guest. But it was a spectacular landing.

Loki could only smile broadly as he saw the 'guest' in Stark's arms.

"Good boy," He breathed as he watched Dr. Banner, very much a human, breathing deeply. Very much unconscious.

Very much in Stark's control.

Stark's plan had gone off with only one hitch. Banner had been very much conscious when he had found him in the rubble and staring in horror at him. The Hulk fit having worn off and leaving Banner exhausted and pooped. Tony had simply delivered a sharp blow to his neck and watched as he fell. A niggling of some kind of feeling Stark  **knew** , but couldn't quite  _grasp_  made him pause momentarily.

But only momentarily.

It was only the matter of flying the five minutes back that had kept him after that.

"Bruce." Steve whispered, the first to see after the dust cleared. His face was stricken, as if someone had brutally killed a litter of puppies in front of him. Thor sucked in a harsh breath as Natasha narrowed her eyes, unable to see because she was not, in fact, a super human or a god. And the smoke covering the ground was still blanketing everything.

The Captain's mind was a mess of:  _Stark. Ironman. Banner. Brucee. Why is he not Hulk? What is he- Oh gosh, Don't tell me- It can't be. Why him? Stark? Banner? Oh no. Not Banner. Anyone but banner. Dammnit Loki-_

Iron man looked sharply and distrustfully at the trio as he walked closer to Loki, who was also walking towards him. They made it seem almost a dance. They met and Iron man gently placed Banner on the ground (much like one would with a child), before looking up, while still kneeling, to say words that made the Avengers cringe.

"Sir, I've brought you the Hulk as per your request."

_-*- _HAWKEYE-_ _- _HAWKEYE_ -*-_

Clint was now aware of just what was going on down on Earth, and he was super excited.

Excited like only a slave-minion of Loki could be. Excited like a kid hyped up on birthday cake chasing the clown and being allowed to break all the rules.

The feelings he was getting from Loki were keeping him on a constant high. Which was strange, because Drugs were not his cup of tea. They were in his life, but not for him.

Now, Agent Barton had never been one for drugs, but even he had tried some in his earlier years. Back at the circus and other places unworthy of being mentioned for fear the police would hunt him down. And even though Loki didn't actually count as a drug, it was close enough. This feeling was ten times better than drugs, a thousand times more potent, and a trillion times more intoxicating.

The people on the ground in the control center were quiet, or dead, as the shots settled down to one every thirty seconds, unless someone dared to try anything. Which they didn't. Fury had been unusually quite, but Hawkeye was beyond caring. Agent Barton was deep in thought as Loki made his connection ten minutes before Stark exploded the building.

" _Destroy the mammoth craft, and return to me. Your work there is done."_

Agent Barton only smiled and set an arrow with a trigger-detonation, rigged to create an explosion ten seconds after hitting any surface. He would be down to four arrows, but he thought it would be particularly useful to use the arrow now, instead of allowing any room for errors latter.

Besides, Barton shrugged to himself as he lined up his shot with the center, it wasn't as if he cared for Fury. Even before he started believing in Loki, he'd never cared much for the Director. And neither had the director cared for him. To him, he was expendable and easily replaced.

But to Loki… Barton could only smile as he thought of how it didn't matter. Serving Loki was enough.

The arrow flew true and Barton was on a helio-coptor before the aircraft started sinking rapidly on the horizon.

Nobody left to steer and control it; with the flight decks in flames.


	5. Pull em out, Put Something else in

Nobody moved. The Avengers were frozen. Loki and Tony were currently just still with the silence. Bruce was down and out. And the city was burning.

"Good boy, my Iron man." Loki beamed at his newest servant, who was currently still kneeling. Tony had been glaring at the Avengers, which they couldn't see on account of his mask, but quickly turned back to Loki. Absolutely soaking up his Lord's praise.

It wasn't every day- after all- that Loki praised him.

Or well… figuratively.

Natasha thought he looked like a puppy who was ready to pee everywhere in excitement and happiness. If he had a tail, it would have been wagging.

Thor just pitied his friend greatly.

Steve though… Well, Steve didn't think a whole lot. He mostly just got angry. Something completely un-Steve like.

Before Stark could reply correctly, and thank Loki for his gracious praise (as was his new nature), the Avengers interrupted him. Rudely. It made him snap his head towards them and glare once more.

They were unaffected by it.

"Brother," Thor, the brute pleaded, hammer hanging by its string next to his thigh as if he'd totally forgotten it.

"Let Stark go. Free Clint. Stop this senseless destruction and enslavement. Please, if you could only-"

"Stop? Free them? Who said they were enslaved?" Loki retorted with a snorted, walking forward the tiniest bit, standing next to Iron man and laying his hand on his shoulder. The gesture was oddly  **not**  out of place, and even the Avengers could only watch in horror as Stark did nothing but lean into the touch.

"Do you want me to free you, my Iron man?" Loki asked.

Steve felt the first tightening in his chest of anger.

"Do you want to go play  _hero_ , and return to your life as if nothing had ever changed?" Loki purred, watching in fascination as Tony Stark's entire focus shifted to him, before he answered so very politely. It almost didn't sound like Stark at all.

"No, sir. Not at all."

Tony felt stricken as a small part of his mind, the part whispering  _Pepper_  over and over, said yes. The larger part was horrified of even the thought of being apart from his Lord. Of even thinking he had once survived without him. Of thinking he could survive without him  _now_.

"Of course not." Stark snorted, before turning to the others and pulling his facemask back to show his sneering face and glowing, blue eyes. The eyes that he had become quite proud about. "Why would I ever want  _that_?"

The Avengers looked disgusted and mad and pitying and above all: shocked. Whatever they thought Loki had done, it couldn't have possibly sunk that far into their consciousness.

"That's settled then." Loki smiled, turning away from Stark.

"Looks like the Iron man is mine."

The Avengers didn't like that sentiment.

Not a bit.

"You sick,  _mother_ **fu** -" Steve snarled as he walked forward, using language that was both old and new to him- but still forbidden and strong. His anger had finally snapped something in his mind, his shield clasped tightly as he closed in on Tony and Loki. He stomped angrily towards the apposing two.

He hadn't even made it a few feet before Loki and Stark both smirked over his shoulder, completely ignoring him.

Neither moved, and it was only after seeing the smuggest look on Loki's face that he looked behind him, anger sort of spluttering at the superior look, just as Natasha gasped in pain and Thor roared in fury. Dull thuds sounding along with them.

Steve could only blink as he stared hard and his mouth dropped open minutely.

How on earth had they forgotten the Chitauri?

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-FURY-FURY-FURY-

Fury stood on the deck of his airship, clutching his arm tightly. Knowing that the shrapnel would kill him soon.

He wasn't going to be saved by a generator strapped to his chest like Stark was. He wasn't going to miraculously turn super human. He wasn't going to land the plane before it hit the hospital below (the course he had tried to change it, but was near impossible with only two of the original two hundred).

He was going to die.

Radio was down. Only two other people besides himself were alive. Mariah Hill's lifeless eyes still haunted him and he could only stare out the glass window as the Aircraft practically turned perpendicular to the ground, falling faster than ever before.

It felt like Gravity was turned off.

They were going to die.

"Sir, what do we do?" The younger soldier asked, holding his arm, not all that badly hurt. Terrified because death was staring him in the face and he could do nothing, but not all that hurt. The other grunt was sitting staring out the window like Fury. Her eyes puffy from the tears she had cried. Her leg beyond destroyed from shrapnel as well.

"Agent Barton destroyed the flight deck. Both of them. We are currently falling one thousand miles and should reach the ground in under a minute. Everyone else is either dead or jumped ship," Fury stated coldly-bitterly- watching as the small objects grew in size. Trees were now almost as big as pencils. His one good eye watched as the world around him went insane and he literally fell from grace.

He'd forever be known as the man who allowed the world to end.

Where was his bravo now? Where was sentiment of: Until the world sees fit to stop spinning, we will continue on as if it still does?

Where were the  _fucking_  Avengers?

"What the hell can we do?"

The solider had no response, having never seen Director Fury ever give up.

"We can hope… can't we?"

"For what?" Fury asked abruptly, turning to give his last few moments to the soldier on the flight deck. The boy looked no more than twenty five. So young.

"For the Avengers to save us."

The reply was soft spoken confidence, and Fury didn't have the heart to break it.

The ground rose up to meet them in an almost friendly embrace. Reminding them that Gravity always got her man.

They were going to die.

"Yeah," Fury replied instead of saying what he really though. "I guess we can."

And then they crashed.

_-*-HAWKEYE-_-HAWKEYE-*-_

Clint arrived on the scene to the alien army demolishing everything.

Literally everything. Gigantic turtle-worms were flying through the sky with little to no regard to the buildings they were smashing. The grunts were holing the humans up and holding them hostage. The screaming was the worst, but he could only smirk as he saw the pure destruction being wreaked on the city of Manhattan.

_Never much cared for this city anyway,_ he thought to himself as he set his sights on Stark tower and watched as the Empire State building fell,  _too many people in such a small place._ The large glowing blue beam of energy drawing him to it like a bug to an open flame. Beckoning to him and telling him where his home really was.

Stark Tower.

Loki was there.

When Hawkeye arrived, it was only a simple matter of getting to the top of the tower. Sans vehicle.

Standing on the tower was Loki, as Hawkeye set the plane on autopilot and jumped, landing the fifteen feet easily with a roll at the end, as a precaution so he didn't break anything. He looked up from his roll with a smirk to see Loki standing next to the kneeling Stark and unconscious Banner. The Aliens ignored him, mostly because his energy readings were more on par with Loki than anyone else- reason enough to leave him alone.

Apparently the Trio of Avengers fighting had just arrived too. Or had just started fighting, because he only received a few calls of his name- desperately from Natasha, breathlessly from Thor, and snarled by Steve- before they were pulled back into the fight.

"What'd I miss, Boss?" Clint asked as he rose slowly, in a way that Agent Romanov had always described as particularly animalistic- lithe like a cat, but strong like an ape. Loki through it looked absolutely deadly.

"Nothing yet Barton," Loki replied smoothly, watching as Barton walked the rest of the way and stood to his left, the direct opposite of Stark. There was a brief moment of glaring between the two men (the automatic reactions of two males meeting for the first time). Seeing their gazed cross and narrow slightly, Loki then added, "Though I must reintroduce you and Stark."

The reactions from Barton and Stark were comically as they both looked at him- eyes glowing but almost hero-worshipping in their gazed.

"You both are on the same side now. Therefore, there shall be no fighting among my ranks."

"Of course Master." Stark replied simply, rising after being allowed to just as Clint responded with,

"Not a problem boss."

The scene was so normal in that abnormal way Loki was accustom to, that Loki almost considered for a second that something disastrous would have to happen, just so that it wouldn't be weird.

"Good. Then I would suggest-"

He got what he wanted.

Whatever Loki was about to say was cut off by both Thor and Captain America throwing their respective aliens off the building and turning to attack Loki. Thor threw his Hammer and it nailed him in the chest, sending Loki flying with a gagged 'hmph'. The Captain snarled as he went for Stark, trying to knock some sense into his head with a spare bit of metal he had found.

Both Clint and Tony reacted in the same way at approximately the same time, as Loki went flying over the edge of the building to the ledge below them. Only about twenty feet. Almost nothing of a drop for a god, but it still enraged his minions. So there was only one acceptable reaction.

Retreat and attacking-defensive-strategy, or defending by means of attack.

Loki's small group of stolen-avengers rolled into action like a well-oiled machine. Clint grabbed an arrow, fitted it to explode and sent it towards Steve's head just as Stark grabbed Banner and jumped to the other ledge below (directly onto the glass that Jarvis had prepared). Steve caught the arrow that Clint had shot and smirked.

Tony, being of sound mind and semi-sound body, had seen Banner starting to awaken, just before Loki had started talking, but not wanting to interrupt his master waited patiently for him to finish before telling him.

Obviously, that was not the best course of action, but he rolled with the consequences of his actions. Loki would need to 'Enlighten' Banner before he was fully awakened, or else his capture would be for naught. Tony narrowed his eyes. It would not be for naught. The Hulk was not a very personable person when angry, and Stark knew that personally.

Stark landed just as the arrow exploded in Steve's hand, blinding both Thor and the Captain as Clint dived backward to reach the bottom ledge, just as his master and Stark had done. Loki rose unsteadily, hand still clutching his scepter tightly, over the strong glass of the ledge. Stark's tower had built in safety measures to protect stupid guests and over zealous fans.

Never before had the titanium-platted glass ever been used to stop the descent of a god being hit with a hammer.

Loki snarled as Stark brought him Banner, who was fluttering his eyes open and closed, probably trying to get reoriented with life. It took only a few seconds for Loki to shake off the last feeling of disorientation from being knocked around before turning to Bruce and remember why he was important.

Bruce was fluttering his eyes and holding his head as he groaned. There was something of a party going on behind his eyelids, and he had been unjustly dragged to it.

Stark's face appeared in the sequence of faces he had scene.

"Tony?" He questioned as he saw Iron man's mask above him. Something was wrong though. Bruce knew it almost instinctively.

But what?

"Hey Bruce." Stark said lightly, his voice chipper. Bruce, still being groggy couldn't quite remember why on earth he was suddenly weary of his only friend. Or at least apprehensive about him when Tony had never shown him the same. Even now.

"You went giant-rage-monster. Destroyed a few buildings. Saved a few lives."

Loki tired of the distraction Stark had so carefully started, in order to confuse and weaken Bruce's mind readied his scepter.

"This will probably come as a shock, but-" Stark never finished as the scepter came in Bruce's line of sight, descending straight for his chest.

Eyes wide, Bruce didn't have the reflexes to even bat it away before it touched his chest and he convulsed as bright light seared his brain. Loki smirked as the blue veins traveled over his throat.  _How Bruce would love the enlightenment, just as Stark did,_  thought Loki with one of his infamous insane grins across his face.

Because that's what it was, wasn't it? The blue light. Enlightenment.

And what does enlightenment do, but make everything simpler, of course.

HULK _SMAS_ **H** ULK _SMAS_ **H** ULK _SMAS_ **H** ULK

Banner had never felt anything like it.

He'd been ripped apart, to be created into a huge green monster. He'd been cached halfway around the world playing doctor for people who would most likely die in the next few years. He'd been suicidal because of how the world had viewed him, and his own predicament. And he had been hopelessly lost.

But never- never- in that time that all of that had befallen him, had he been hopeful.

Like he was now.

It was like being at peace and like being in love, as well as knowing (in your heart) that everything is as it should be. It also tasted like chocolate, and felt like a drug. Looked like the most pleasing thing in the world times ten, and felt like the sun on his skin. Loki's gaze felt like a privilege.

He felt the other guy simmering on the other end, but it was strange because even  **he**  felt… calm. Felt as though he could become agitated, but it wouldn't matter. Less angry. Willing to get angry, as he always was, but for different purposes now. Willing to smash, and shred, and  **kill** ; but not for himself. Maybe not ever for himself, again.

Somewhere in his mind, he hated that thought. That thought that he would kill. That thought that hew would do it again, but never for himself. And then somewhere, much more forefrontish was the thought that killing would be a pleasure for his Master. Would be done gladly to gain favor. Would be done to make everything better. Like weeding a garden, or culling a herd.

Bruce wanted to be sick, but then saw no reason. The sickness disappeared in his throat, the emotion followed behind it was changed, and he felt as though he had never been better. The thoughts twirling and swirling in his head were night and day in comparison, but so very, very true. Both of them. And yet, only one of the truths mattered.

And no matter which thoughts were in complete disarray and fighting with themselves, there was one thing he knew. One truth he knew above all those other, petty truths.

Loki was his Master.

What Master said, or did, was law.

Banner felt the want to please Loki grow bigger and bigger, filling him up- The Hulk felt it ten times more so. He would kill, no matter how much he hated it; because Loki commanded it. The Hulk would kill, smash, and demolish for no other reason than it would lead to Loki wanting- no, loving him. More.

These feelings were foreign.

Wanting to be wanted. Feeling the need to please. Wanting what was not best for himself, but for Loki- for the world.

And all of the foreign feelings were not just for him. Not just him.

Nor was it for himself.

It was for Loki.

It was Loki's.

-=- _ **A**_ _vengers_ -=-

Thor, after throwing his hammer, called it back. There was a layer of dust and smoke obscuring him from his brother and the other Avengers, but the hammer returned dutifully. He heard a grunt as Natasha took out another alien grunt, the last one that had been on the top of the building.

"Captain!" Thor called out as his hammer returned to him and he caught it. "Agent Romanov!"

"Right here, Thor." Steve coughed, able to see Thor through the rapidly clearing smoke. Even though he was a super solider, his eyes hadn't quite gotten the memo that smoke was bad. Nor his lungs. It wouldn't technically mattered, because of his healing abilities, but it still smarted.

"Over here." Natasha said as she walked forward, searching the level they were on for anyone else. Seeing no one she worked herself into action and walked towards the edge.

The only other person beside the remaining Avengers was Eric, and he was passed out from a blow Natasha had dealt him to the head in the confusion. She claimed, during the scrimmage with the grunts, that she hoped it would knock some sense into him. Thor and Steve both thought that she was crazy, but were past caring about the scientist. Even though Thor still looked at his once-friend sadly, as if a look could free him.

Thor and Steve couldn't have responded if they had wanted to, though. Too busy saving the world. Or trying to.

"Loki is on the other floor." Thor said as the last of the smoke fell to their knees, obscuring the dead bodies still and other debris. "I managed to catch him with Mjollnir before Agent Barton shot the Captain. Stark's Jarvis made a solid plating of glass appear, and they have landed safely-"

The Captain, for his part, had stopped listening after 'floor' and realized with a dropping heart that they had taken Banner with them. Which could only mean one thing, logically. His panicked mind picked up speed as he went dashing off. He didn't stop running as he left the ground and landed on the other floor, taking the drop like a man and grunting with the impact. Natasha and Thor were a little slower to follow, but followed all the same.

They didn't miss a whole lot, except for the fact that Banner was on all fours on the ground, in front of Loki who was still looking smug as a bug in a rug, even for someone as ruffled as could be from a hammer blow. Iron man had his mask back on and both hands pointed towards them, ready to dispatch his power-blasts. Hawkeye, completely donning his entire outfit that Natasha had failed to see, had his arrow pointed towards the Captain.

Neither would miss, and the Avengers knew that. And that was why they didn't move any further forward, eyes transfixed on Bruce.

"Hello, Doctor Banner." Loki purred as Bruce rose to a kneeling position, his body completely relaxed. Natasha felt a little bit of her earlier unease return. "How do you feel?"

The remaining Avengers cringed as one as they heard what he said next, "Magnificent."


	6. Kneel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the mighty fall this chapter, but next chapter is when things get... Major-Character-deathy :) #sorryNotSorry  
> #kindOfSorry  
> ...#okayYesIAmSorry

 

Tony Stark and Clint Barton were of the same mind.

Their wave length was connected through Loki, and therefore they could do amazing things. Including, but not limited to, tag team anyone who even looked at Loki funny. Which was currently all of the Avengers. Plus Eric. That was based on the fact that Eric looked at everyone funny.

Both Clint and Tony were holding in their snarls, and keeping a close eye on the remaining Avengers, who were standing too close for comfort and looking at them wearily.

"Brother," Thor said, pleadingly and imploringly. Weakly. "This is the last time I ask. Give up these foolish ideals and free those you've commandeered. Give them back their minds and I swear your punishment shall be brief."

Loki only looked up fleetingly from Banner, the source of his attention, before responding in anything that was brief or short.

"Why would I give up three of the most powerful humans-" Loki asked, which immediately gave those under his command a little bolt of pleasure. Clint and Stark were birds of a feather and practically preened themselves at the comment, while Bruce was still just happily riding the wave of the drug known as Loki.

"-Because you claim to have the power to punished me?"

Smugness radiated off of him like steam. With three Avengers, handpicked by Fury himself, behind him- he had every right to be. Natasha and Thor both allowed that thought to cross their minds. But even if Loki was powerful enough to do it, didn't mean he should.

Steve didn't think Loki had any right. In fact. He had had enough.

"Because you can't manipulate another being like that. What about their wants? Their needs? What about  _freedom_?" Steve snarled, stepping forward which was met with raised hackles from both Stark and Clint. An arrow aimed at his chest and a hand charging (with the low pitched 'huuuzzz') made him stop in his second step before he could continue on, which he sorely wanted to do. Very much wanted to just continue on and damn the consequences.

But he was torn.

He didn't want the captured-Avengers to waken from their captivity and have any guilt about attacking him or Thor, or even Natasha, when they came too (and they  **would**  come too). He  **also**  (this is where he was torn) wanted to wound Loki for hurting and taking  **his**  Avengers from him, when they had just managed to come together to save the world. But doing either, would make sure the other did not happen.

It was a hard choice, one that made him even more human after he had made it.

So he refrained from taking another step. Though he sorely wanted to.

Bruce was still kneeling, getting reacquainted with his new mind, and could only vaguely feel the threatening posture Steve was showing. The other guy did not appreciate the bad-juju going on behind him, and almost broke free from the carefully cultivated calm- but Bruce managed to calm him as well as Loki.

Loki had a plan.

"Why don't you ask them what they think, instead of accusing me of putting thoughts in their heads," Loki stated, instead of trying to manipulate everyone. As per usual. Though, it really wouldn't matter. Because he had put thoughts in their heads. Thoughts of absolute loyalty. Absolute control. Absolute freedom through absolute control.

"Because they are under  _your_  control." Natasha snarled, from behind Steve- stepping up next to him. "Anything they say is tainted by you. It can't be trusted-"

"Do not talk of the Boss like that." Clint snarled back, while shifting his focus towards her as well as his arrow. Iron man was still holding his arms out towards Steve, more than ready to attack, but kept a wary eye on Natasha, too.

"You know nothing of what Loki has given us." Tony snapped, watching Steve's face with delight as it fell. "Nothing."

Nobody moved (the Avengers in shock; the others in protective detail; and Loki just because it caused chaos), until Banner finally found the strength to turn towards the Avengers. His blue eyes were sickeningly stomach-turning to Steve. And Steve would forever remember the color blue as the color that had taken away his friends freedom. He almost wanted to make his suit only red and white after this, in defiance of the color blue for all eternity.

"And you, Green one?" Thor asked, his eyes softening as he looked at the newest minion. "Do you also talk about Loki as your Master?" Hoping that if only they could get a small smidgeon of doubt through his only-slightly fuzzy mind…

Thor pressed on in blind hope, as was always his nature.

"I'm not angry." Was the first thing Banner said, walking forward slightly off his knees. He did not stumble. "This is the first time in my life-since the accident- that I feel in control. I feel like I don't have to lose control. I feel like I can do anything..."

"It feels amazing."

Nobody missed the fact that Bruce was not twitching or squirreling himself away. Nobody missed the fact that Bruce's entire body language was relaxed, and basic, and not angry or frightened. Nobody missed the faint smile, twitching just on the corners of his mouth.

The Avengers missed the fact that it was a serious problem though. And therefore underestimated their newest opponent.

"And if you want to take that from me- you won't like my response."

Whatever the Avengers were thinking was going to be said, it was not that.

In the stunned silence, Loki stepped forward.

"Is that satisfactory?" Thor glared weakly. Natasha looked as if she wanted to tear the oblivious Clint a new one. Steve was trying to control his anger.

"I only enlighten them to the world. At least I do not hurt them needlessly, like you Avengers do. I do not pretend my offered hand is anything but control. I do not offer friendship. I do not offer anything as petty as that. I offer control. What do you offer?"

He chuckled to himself as Thor glared at him harshly.

The silence stretched on for minutes. Maybes hours. Nobody really knew. It seemed indefinite.

"Enough with the stalling." Captain America was the first to snap. His temper had seemed to have frozen with the ice had had been entrapped in.

"Let's duke this out and may the winner take all." The sentiment was felt by all.

"Agreed." Loki smiled slowly.

"Agreed." Whispered Thor softly, an incredible feat for him.

And then, the aliens came on the scene.

-=- ** _A_** _vengers_ -=-

There is something oddly horrifying in knowing that you are grossly outnumbered.

Steve felt this way. Natasha felt this way. And Thor did not much care, except that the battle was weighed heavily in their enemies favor and his friends were tiring.

There is also something oddly infuriating about Loki's smile, and every one of the Avengers agreed on that as they attacked. Every single one of the avengers watched their back as the alien grunts dropped to the ground to surround them, armed to their strange teeth. Only stopping as Loki uttered something in a completely guttural language.

The humans didn't understand, but Thor stood up a little straighter. His eyes flashing in something akin to excitement. He understood.

"Loki is making this fight fair." Thor explained hurriedly as the Aliens bowed low to Loki and formed a tight circle around the perimeter of the floor they were on, including the inside of the floor in their dimensions. The broken glass not hindering them in the least. Making the space between the closest aliens almost half the width of a football field. "The Aliens will not intervene unless someone loses…"

Natasha was the first to push past Thor, fed up with the waiting, before he had even finished the sentence. Her eyes were locked on Clint.

"Don't lose." Natasha said while stepping forwards towards Clint, who already was putting away his arrows. Clint smirked as they stood a yard away, slowly watching each other. Natasha promised him silently in her mind a good thwack to his head once he got better. Maybe a punch in the stomach. "Got it."

The two assassins walked towards each other, carefully circling.

It should have been disturbing- going against the only person who understood her. But it wasn't. It was oddly comforting. They had dueled and sparred countless times, circling each other like two lions- ready to pounce and destroy. They knew each other. They knew each other better than themselves, half the time.

So why wasn't it as horrifying as it could have been?

"Barton." Loki spoke from behind, and Clint inclined his head slightly, never taking his eyes off of Natasha. As for Agent Romanov, she was curiously dreading what Loki was going to order.

"I promised her a very, very …  _intimate_  end. Do see that she gets it?" A wolf would have looked more friendly than Loki at that point. A wolf circling you, and going for the kill while you are minutes away from death.

Clint's smile was very… hawkish as he nodded once. Finality in the very movement of his head. His eyes snapping onto hers more fully.

Eyes narrowed. Nostrils flared. Tensed shoulders. Clint meant business.

Natasha could only breath sharply as she realized Loki had just made their duel a death match. Any comfort she had taken from settling up to duel Clint was lost as that dawned on her.

A death match.

Shit.

~~#  _CAPTAIN_ - **FREEDOM** - _AMERICA_  #~~

Captain America was next. He hoisted his shield up high on his arm, and stepped forward. Weaponless but ultimately the best human-weapon. Much like he had when volunteering in the military, those long years ago when he had been nothing but a bean pole with meat on him.

His steps were mirrored by Stark. And now, more than ever before, his movements were robotic, but smooth and fluid. This was probably one of the only days that Stark had ever been in full control of his suit. Able to operate it at a hundred and ten percent.

Tony opened his face mask to smile almost normally at Steve. As if this would only be a sparring match. Half with words, the other half with fists. The rewards a bottle of Jack and a night out on Stark. Drowning his worries. The punishment being to do a hundred and fifty pushups.

This time, the reward was the same as the punishment: Enslavement vs. freedom.

"Scared, Cap'n Crunch?" Stark projected his voice, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled. Which looked more alien then when he had kneeled to Loki, because of the blue eyes.

"Shaking in my boots." Steve confirmed, partly lying through his teeth. Captain America observed the faint vibration of the suit. "Same as you it seems."

"Wouldn't be too sure about that Captain underpants." Stark said, adjusting his hand, lighting up the different parts of his suit like the fourth of July. The twisting and turning of armor as it re adjusted itself for battle made Steve pause momentarily. He still wasn't very comfortable around machines and technology in general.

Steve glanced around nervously, wanting to smile, before remembering just what kind of situation Stark was still in. Completely loyal to Loki.

"At least I'm not a play toy to a god." Steve said, hoping to gain a rise out of the man made of steel.

Steve shook his head as Stark's eyes became rigid, all humor gone. He said nothing as his facemask closed and he crouched, turned on his boosters and flew directly at the Captain. Not even giving him a moment's notice. A second and he was halfway across the small space.

That buzzing of his boosters was all Steve received as a warning, before he was fighting for his life.

For  **his**  people.

For  **his**  country.

For  **his**  freedom.

THOR

[~0~]

|\|  
|\|

Thor moved slowly, walking towards Loki before Loki himself shook his head.

"Oh no, Thor. Odinson." Loki sneered, and seeing Thor's confusion added, "Not me."

Thor looked even more confused as he looked at Loki as if he was insane. Which, maybe he was. But that was neither here nor there.

"You'll be against,  _my_  Hulk."

Thor's eyes hardened in anger at the casual possession in Loki's voice, as Banner pranced towards him, eyes bright and happy as he smiled carefree at Thor. It was a surprise. Banner was not one to be so relaxed and easy going. It threw Thor for a loop as Banner smile and transformed before his eyes. Effortlessly. Green muscles rippling as he transformed into the giant beast.

Thor could only gasp as he saw what exactly The Hulk looked like with blue eyes.

And that was intelligent.

_-LOKI-LOKI-LOKI-_

The fighting was brilliant.

Brutal. Vicious. All or nothing. Bloody. Wounding. Intimate. Topsy-turvy.

So very, very beautiful.

Loki watched as his pets fought valiantly against their counter parts. Strength against strength. Agility and cunning against its mirror in everything. And super soldier against man-made superman.

Loki's mouth was currently pulled into a grin, striking as he watched these once friends attack each other. Heroes brought together for one purpose, fighting against each other for the very same one. Natasha and Clint's the most personal and intense of all the fighting. Even though, logically, they should have been the weakest- against each other they were the strongest.

Their fighting was primitive. They knew each other's weakness and used it to their full advantage. Knives flashed, elbows slammed, blows connected. Spots were guarded. It was like a well-practiced dance. And his Agent Barton, was the man in the relationship for sure. Natasha only managed a weak guarded blow back as Barton stepped forward.

Loki decided that fight would last a while yet, and turned.

The battle between his brother and the beast was interesting. After the small insight he had gotten into the mind of Bruce Banner, he was quite excited on learning how Thor would fight this new and improved Hulk. A Hulk that had the ability to use every bit of cunning and wiles that Bruce had. A Hulk that was no longer split down the middle, but balanced so perfectly that if he ever were to become unbalanced- the result could be catastrophic.

Thor was thrown into the wall of aliens, forcing many of their strange Chiturian hearts to stop beating, before getting up and running back into the fray. Hammer swinging.

The most bizarre fight was most certainly between the Captain and his Iron man. The Captain was humanity as its finest, while Stark was man-made ingenuity to the max. They fought in such different styles, that one of them should have lost by now.

Except neither had given an inch.

When Steve threw a punch and Stark dodged, or when Stark slammed him into the ground and Steve got back up: it was a wonder that Loki had never seen them in action before. At least, not like this. Without weapons.

They were opposites that attracted. Their fighting was the most high-caliber. Their very attacks personal and them.

When these battles would end- and they would end (spectacularly at that)- the end of the world as everyone knew it would truly begin.

Loki could not find it in himself to wait patiently, but he did know how to be tolerant.

After all, he was chaos. He was lies. He was Mischief.

And sometimes, you needed to wait a long time before the world is read to be juiced of the best destruction. The best chaos. Given the best lies. Treated to the best tricks.

Now was not one of those times.

But soon.

Soon it  _could_  be.

~~#  _CAPTAIN_ - **FREEDOM** - _AMERICA_  #~~

Captain America was the first to fall.

Only twenty minutes in and he was exhausted. He'd been fighting for too long, and had been going strong without sleep for almost twenty-four hours- before accepting to tussle with Iron man, and feeling every bit of it. His age was finally catching up to him. He may have been genetically engineered for battle, but even he was human at the end of the day.

It was almost ironic that the man of the freest nation in the world, was the man who collapsed to his knees as the most un-patriotic man powered a blast right into his chest. Sending him flying across the building into the aliens until he fell backwards, the aliens moving only slightly out of the way.

America stayed down as industry rose above. The symbolism was lost on most everyone there, except for Captain America.

Steve panted as he lay on the ground.

Inside his mind, he tried to coach himself to get up, to keep going, to not give up. His limbs were dead tired and moving seemed as if it was torture in itself. His lungs didn't appreciate working and protested greatly. It didn't help his breathing as Iron man stepped directly on his chest and pointed his blasters openly at his face.

Charged and ready to use, Steve could only shut his eyes and wait for the inevitable feel of death. In his case, being burned to a crisp by his friend.

In some way, he was ready. He was seventy years too old. Seventy years too gone from the world to start learning everything. He was an old dog, and he almost refused to learn any new tricks. Iron man may kill him, but his work would continue on. He had to believe that. He had to believe that humanity would find a way to continue without him.

"Nicely done, my Iron man." Loki's voice said somewhere above him, and Steve though he was dreaming it. Surely he was already dead. The pain had not come, but that might have been because it was quick. Painless. "You have made me very pleased."

"Thank you, Master." Stark's voice replied back, snapping Steve out of his stupor. Stark being polite? The Apocalypse must be upon them.

"I live to serve."

He opened his eyes to see Loki standing over him, his scepter held tightly, the head pointed towards his chest. Steve froze as the horror and understanding washed over him. When had Iron man moved his foot from his chest?

He didn't know. Was too tired to care. And wanted to just escape, into death if need be.

_Of course Loki wouldn't kill me_. Steve thought sardonically to himself.  _That would be too easy_.

Besides, who wouldn't want Captain America kissing the hems of their robe?

The was the last free thought he had as the pointed part of the sceptor hit his chest and he felt blue, cold fire race down his body. Chilling him to the bone and making him regret not wearing something warmer.

~~#  _CAPTAIN_ - **FREEDOM** - _AMERICA_  #~~

Steve looked at becoming enlightened with something akin to great mistrust and hate, and the blue light completely wiped that out of him.

Steve was able to look back on his life, see everything he'd ever done, and reflect on what exactly was wrong with the picture. And it was quite easy to answer, when the question was being whispered in his ear:

Loki.

How had his life gone so wrong? Well Loki hadn't been there.

How had he been so used? Well, Loki hadn't been there.

How- How- How?

And the simple fact was, that Loki hadn't been there.

It was like having someone dig their fingers in your brain, tugging all the right questions into the light, making all the answers told seem right, and then leave you chilled in the aftermath of total conquest. Of total concentrated Loki.

Steve did not feel acceptance strike through him.

No.

He felt it take over his entire being.

He felt it flow into him like the sea covering a beaches shore. He felt it like seeing his brother dying in front of him, and knowing death was the reality. He felt it like being told he had been lied to his whole life, and was only now getting the truth.

He felt gipped. He felt wronged.

How had someone kept this knowledge away from him? How had he never gone in search of it?

How had he spent years upon years in a military so corrupt and blinded by their own humanistic needs, that he forgot what true freedom really was? What it was like to follow a commander and not care about right or wrong?

Loki whispered in his mind that it wasn't his fault. That it was natural for humans to be so… free willed and spirited. To go against the grain that had been set for them.

And as Steve opened his eyes and breathed for the first time in his life, he felt as if his life was going somewhere great.

"Hello, Captain."


	7. There is No Other End to it, there is Only War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andddd the end. This chapter I keep reading over and over and I don't know if I am happy with it, especially with Clint and Natasha, since I have grown to appreciate the both of them more over my maturing. When I wrote this story I was not in-like with either of them, soooo it kind of reads that way. But I tried to clean it up. Don't know if I succeeded.

 

Natasha saw it happen, but could do nothing. Thor saw it happen, and was too late to intervene.

Steve fell and was taken before either of them could try to save him.

Natasha though, ironically before a knife was launched at her,  _and then there were two._

Clint's knife found the momentary distraction to bury itself into Natasha's right shoulder. Eliciting a sharp gasp and scream of pain. The agony forced her to her knees as she tried to keep her thoughts on the true matter at hand. Try and forget that Steve was down and just deal with Barton.

Only Barton took the seconds that Natasha was on the ground, unmoving except to scream, to take out his bow with his remaining three arrows (grabbing only one. Yes, he was a badass, but even he had his limits for a deathblow) and take aim. He was centimeters from pulling the string and burying the arrow into her head, before he remembered clearly what Loki had told him to do.

 _Intimately_.

He narrowed his eyes as he tried to think of how to kill Natasha, his ex-friend-super-assassin-long-time-almost-girl-he-wanted-for-more-than-just-killing-with, in the most intimate way possible.

He wasn't a touchy feely person, by no means of the imagination. He preferred to sit up in high places, far away from any other human touch, and brood. He thought, like most anti-social people, that other's might have the mental capacity to keep up with him, but would never understand him.

He liked being touched by Loki, but that was  _different_. Loki was unlike anybody he had ever know. More than a woman. With a woman, one could do a multitude of things-

And that's when the idea struck.

"Master," Clint began to outline his plan to Loki in his head, through the bond.

~~# CAPTAIN- _FREEDOM_ -AMERICA #~~

"How does it feel?" Loki asked Steve, cutting Clint off as Steve's eyes lightened fully, while Stark lent him a hand to get up with. Steve accepted it graciously, with a solemn smile.

"Better, sir." Steve answered politely, looking up at the taller man-god. "I can't believe I let those lies and half-truths rule my life… I-I feel ashamed."

It looked, to everyone watching, that Steve was actually hurt by that sentence. As if his entire life had been a lie, and Loki had seen to it that he become better. Stark smiled brightly, knowing the feeling very well.

"I feel almost ill that I allowed them to use me as such. As a plaything. I apologize for my difficultness."

"Thank you for enlightening me, sir."

Loki smirked at him, watching the proud man of America bow to him in gratitude. "It was my pleasure."

It never got old. The feeling of taking over their minds, releasing their inner-deepest recesses of their awareness, forcing their little brains to comprehend a new way of thinking. Intoxicating. Making them think and believe that he was all that was true and right in the world.

In time, it would become annoying and probably bothersome- and he might just have to give them back a little free will to make it interesting- but for now. Now.

It was just simply wondrous to have earth's mightiest hero's all bowing down to his greatness.

No snark from Stark. No freedom-loving attitude from Bruce. No Earth-this and Earth-that from Steve.

Just him. All his.

Not Thor's.

**_-ROMANOV-_ **

Natasha breathed through her nose as she felt the seconds drag on. Why wasn't Clint attacking her? Where was he? She was a sitting duck, couldn't he get it over with? She'd never seen him hesitate… well, the one time with her- but that was a fluke. Under Loki's control there was no way he would have gotten away with it a second time-

She felt blinded by the pain of her shoulder, and swore she might have passed out for a second.

The seconds dragged on and she refused to open her eyes to see him. See those eyes staring at her with Loki behind him.

Natasha felt her spirit cracking, then…

"Nat?" It was Clint's voice. It was his nickname for her. It felt personal. Soft, sorry, and almost loving. "Nat, come on- look at me Nat."

Natasha was so confused by the takeover of the Captain, the mental takeover of Bruce, the almost palpable despair, the wound in her shoulder, and the exhaustion creeping into her bones that; she did. She looked up through her bangs to see Clint putting his bow away and kneeling next to her. Gently trying to move her hand from clutching the knife in her shoulder.

His blue eyes were softly pulsing between his two colors. Blue and pale grey. Softly. Almost discernible.

What?

She was weak, but could have attacked him. She wasn't an invalid. She had a knife, it would have been simple to stab through his throat. But he was looking with some sort of emotion on his face, at her shoulder. And the eyes…

What game was he playing?

She had already forgotten, slightly, about the fact that Clint was supposed to kill her. About the fact that it was supposed to be intimate. Or rather, had pushed it far into the back of her mind.

Hope could make anyone with common sense stutter.

"Clint?"

The bright smile on Clint's face made her heart jump, and he moved closer. A soft look in his eyes. A completely foreign, but not entirely unwanted advance as he moved close enough to breath across her face.

"Nat. I think that blow you socked me loosened the control of Loki." His eyes showed relief, but were still blue. I-I can think again. I've been fighting for… I don't know how long Nat-"

Was she dreaming?

"Nat. I'm so glad you aren't dead-"

And then, without any warning nor word otherwise, he leaned in and kissed her.

She hoped she wasn't.

The pain in her shoulder was inconsequential. The brain behind her forehead was screaming N-O. The logistic part of her mind was telling her,  _retribution_. The butterflies in her stomach were telling her,  **finally**.

His lips were chapped, not a huge priority for a minion of Loki. Smooth lips that is. It was confusing. His tongue tried to seek entrance, consistently coming back to the right seam of her mouth. Making her shiver. Her muddled mind was telling her  **pain** , and  **stop** , and  _keep going_ , and  _don't stop_ , and  _isn't this what you've waited for? But wait_ , and  **don't do this** , and is this Clint?

Is this Clint?

In Natasha's mind, she wasn't sure, but gasped as Clint did something particularly strange and wicked just below her belt with his flat palm. Something completely un-Clint like. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue in and she could only really think past the pain-

Shit.

-=- **A** vengers-=-

Thor saw what was going on, but was once again being held completely immobile by the Hulk.

He had faced many opponents before. Some huge. Some magical. Some smart. Some strong. Some insane. And some smart.

But never had he actually fought one that was all of the above combined.

The Hulk smiled.

The demi-god sweated.

The god was  _sweating_. Something that had not even happened when he sparred with Loki, or his father, or his warrior-mates. The Hulk packed a wallop behind each hit, forcing him time and time again into the ground or into a wall. Hammer held up defensively more often than offensively.

And it wouldn't be so frustrating for Thor, if not for the fact that the Hulk was fast enough to dodge his hammer when he actually tried to throw it. And smart enough to not be placed underneath said hammer when he was actually hit.

And Thor was tiring. Not enough to matter. He was a demi-god after all. He could battle for hours against one normal opponent.

But The Hulk was not a normal opponent.

The Hulk was currently growling at him, eyes lighted by the strange blue glow than made him look even more otherworldly. He was smirking that smirk that meant he was about to  **Smash**  something, but his eyes were also like Bruce Banner's when he was thinking something particularly smart.

Thor felt just what Banner had been thinking a moment before he found out what it was.

He went flying as a huge steel beam, being wielded by the Hulk who was grinning like a six year old in a candystore smashed into him.

Where did that steel beam come from? Surely it hadn't always been there… Had it?

The fatigue was getting to him.

Thor shook his head as he stood from the body of yet another Chituri, dead beneath him. His body was aching, but he could last a while longer still. He was not to be king of Asgard only to be taken down by a beast.

"Puny god." Hulk said snidely, somehow making it sound more educated and cultured than ever. Thor was enraged. It was one thing to mock his hammer. It was one think to mock his father.

But one did not mock him!

"You dare!" Hammer in hand, he walked purposely towards the Hulk as he (the Hulk) puffed out his chest and smiled at him. Daring him.

He dared.

Thor snarled as the battle continued, forgetting, again, that Natasha was in danger, his mind going almost primal in his need to beat the beast in front of him.

Something more important, to him anyway, was being threatened.

His honor and pride was in danger of being shattered.

**_-ROMANOV-_ **

Natasha knew she had dreamt of Clint in this position, leaning over her and kissing her senseless as some kind of battle raged on around them. She'd dreamed it countless nights after being saved and recruited by Barton. She'd dreamt it after having duo missions with him. She'd dreamt it when looking at him, looking away from her.

She'd dreamed of him smiling after and before, and of him being his sexy self, and of him having the muscles he had.

She dreamed of the whole package.

The pain was new. As was the feeling of impending doom.

But she pushed it into the back of her mind, with the pain. Compartmentalizing. Wrongly, but at least she was doing it.

She knew, somewhere in her mind, that this was impossible.

Maybe she was dead already? Was this heaven? She wouldn't mind that so much….

Clint was still kissing her, wetly, as she tried to get her mind back in order.

Then he did that thing with his tongue as well as touching her, just above her navel-

And she forgot it.

Again.

_-*- _HAWKEYE_ -_- _HAWKEYE_ -*-_

Clint had never seduced anyone.

That was Natasha's department, but apparently it could have been his as well.

He smirked against Natasha's lips as he managed to get a moan from her, and tried to reason briefly why Natasha wasn't fighting back. He knew her, from both memories and feelings he had had. Natasha should not be like putty in his hands- no matter how damaged.

Had she honestly fallen for such a simple trap? Had she honestly thought the flickering of his eyes mattered? Had she thought he cared about her?

He could remember faintly, from before Loki, that he had liked her. Loved her like a sister. But nothing else. Natasha and him worked well together. Like a well-oiled machine.

Never a well-oiled sex-machine though.

" _Enough playing with your food Barton."_  Loki whispered into the forefront of his mind. _"This is as intimate as I am going to_ _ **allow**_ _you to go."_

And that was enough to make him draw his knife from his calf and place it just above her armpit, aimed in the direction of her heart. Not touching yet. Hovering. He didn't stop kissing as he felt her shudder and then completely still.

Oh dear, it looks like Natasha was getting over her shock.

Couldn't have that now, could he?

HULK _SMASH_ ULK _SMASH_ ULK _SMASH_ ULK

The Hulk had gotten ahold of Thor's ankle and was currently swinging him every which way, throwing him against the floor, into the air, against the floor, against the air- and repeat. In his Hulk-banner brain, it was a lot of fun.

Calculations as well as maniacal laughter was currently filling his head.

The part that was Bruce was enjoying the muscles he had never been able to enjoy before. The Hulk was enjoying the freedom of having real thoughts. Bruce was quite happy to have the hulk happy. He'd always been too scared. Too scared to come out and play with the Hulk side of his brain. Too timid to even try and control himself. It was true he  _could_  control himself, but he had never been able to control the chaotic mind of Hulk.

And that was what he was enjoying now.

It was like trying to run with a horse, play fight with a tiger, wrestle with an ape, and howl with a wolf on a full moon night; with the added bonus that he could control it. It was the primitive to his science. The muscle to his smarts. The brawn to his brain.

The Hulk to his Banner.

He finally allowed Thor to go flying into the cement of the floor. The satisfying crunch as he landed hard was wonderful to his scattered brain. The small groan that was heard after was music to his ears, then he heard it.

Everyone (alien, Avenger, or other) looked towards the sound.

The screaming of someone taking their last breath.

**_-ROMANOV-_ **

One moment pleasure, the next pain.

How had it gone so wrong, so fast? Natasha wondered faintly as the ragged breath was ripped out of her mouth unwillingly. Clint's lips were no longer on hers. In fact, he wasn't even touching her, save for the knife being twisted into her ribs. But the metal was not him, more of extension.

And that made it hurt even worse.

How had she allowed Barton to wriggle his way into her life so fully that this kind of betrayal hurt?

She tried breathing slowly, as to not jar the knife in her side, but failed horrifically. Blood had managed to find its way through her throat, and she had a good idea of how far the knife had pierced both her heart and one of her lungs.

She wouldn't last long. Not anymore.

She opened her eyes to see the dark blue once again overtake Clint's eyes. Making that smile he had smiled turn into a smirk- quirking his lips into the badass one she knew and loved. And knew and hated.

The worse part, she thought to herself as she felt her heart stutter and stop, was that she would never know who was kissing her.

Clint or Agent Barton or Loki's lapdog.

And as Clint smirked, she felt like she had an idea. But it stopped mattering as everything started repeating. Repeating.

Clint smirked. She had an idea. Smirked. Like. Agent. Lapdog. Barton. Colors. Feelings. Words. Emotions. Blood. Hope. Crushed. Barton. World. Avengers. Clint.

The kiss replaying as she went limp.

_**-LOKI-LOKI-LOKI-** _

Loki walked carefully towards his brother. Hands behind his back. Fingers splayed up his wrists. Minions following a step behind. Smirk firmly in place as he grew into a full-fledged smile. His hair blowing in the wind.

This. This was the picture the remaining ex-Avengers would have in their minds, Bruce thought.

Loki. Winning.

"Oh dear,  _brother_ ," Loki started, sending a shiver of pleasure up the spines of those around him. The exception being Thor. Who was currently pulling himself limply from the body-sized hole. "It looks like I've won."

Thor glared weakly and bitterly up at his brother, who was now only a foot away from him. His Hammer was only a few feet away, but after losing Natasha- had felt some of the connection, the worthiness- crack a little.

The Hammer would answer his call, but it would do it reluctantly. As would any soldier watching as his commander was torn down to nothing but a foolish child.

"Brother…" Thor started softly, rising to his feet and watching as Stark, Clint, and Steve all kept their eyes and the occasional weapon on him. Such a foreign feeling. Being weary of those he had once called brothers in arms. Or not so strange, considering he still considered Loki such.

"What have you to gain from this?" The demand was ragged and sharp.

Loki only smirked as he raised his scepter. Not to take over his brother's mind, but to intimidate and to show off and to give the silent order to detain Thor to the chituri.

The Chitari surged forward with a wordless roar.

"What had I always wanted?" Loki asked.

Thor glared up from underneath the pile of bodies.

"To be your equal."

Thor was silent.

"And what better way to do that, then to take over an existing world and rebuild it as I see fit?"

"Why this world? Why now, brother?"

"Because humans are weak and pathetic, and need to be ruled." The ex-Avengers didn't even flinch as their race was dragged through the metaphoric mud.

"But- You can't-"

"Yes. I can."

And Loki did.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_..~THE END~.._-_-_-_-_-_-_

And so the world fell.

In four hours, ten minutes, and twenty two seconds after the Tesseract was fully operational and forming the portal; the world was his.

In the hour following that, the rest of the world had gotten desperate. The S.H.E.I.L.D counsel had not heard from Fury, nor the pilot they had ordered to strike Stark Towers. It was no wonder they were getting restless and desperate.

Manhattan was still standing and yet so was Loki.

Both of those things needed to be fixed.

In the hour after that, when the Counsel had gotten a hold of an air carrier close enough to send a different pilot, with a different bomb (one that was much less potent), it was almost impossible to get any kind of signal in or out of the city. Therefore they had to assume that everything was lost.

The pilot was sent to deliver the bomb and never returned. Mostly on account of the shield Stark had built in the hour the counsel had taken to make their decision.

The bubble-shield surrounding the city was impressive in the fact that it covered two miles directly from Stark Towers and stopped all electrical output from entering that was not 'Stark approved'. It also managed to keep the citizens inside the limits. Steve and Clint both took the duty of 'human herders' seriously and did it well.

It took two more pilots for the counsel to really start sweating, and by then Stark had managed to completely take over the entire city. Not one person was even close to the edge of the shield.

Everyone inside was screwed, and everyone outside was just waiting for it.

Two hours and Manhattan was impenetrable. The Portal still open between worlds. And Loki managed to  _somehow_  find a throne to place in Stark Tower, looking out the broken windows at the first city in the many that would fall to him.

He sat in regular Loki fashion. Lounging against the throne with his knees wide open and a fist under his chin, watching the Avengers in front of him.

"-The citizens have been placed in the designated areas, sir." Steve was finishing, Clint standing next to him and nodding. They job was basically just the confinement of humans to basements and the like, and then trying to remember afterwards where they were.

"The Shield is fully operational and should stay that way for an indiscernible amount of time." Stark continued afterwards, sitting in a high back chair in front of a monitor Jarvis had supplied for him. He hadn't moved at all. "The tests Jarvis has run confirm that nobody has been able to escape, no communication has been had, and the internet has been successfully cut off, Master."

"Excellent." Loki said before shooing them off to continue their jobs.

"Should I kill the mayor, sir?" Steve asked, before following the already departing Clint. "He has been giving us a little bit of trouble. Giving freedom speeches in the basements and using an archaic means of communication."

Loki nodded thoughtfully, thinking back to how quiet his brother had been, and watching as Steve left to go kill some unimportant important human.

Thor was defeated and shackled to a wall of Loki's own making (in the basement so he didn't have to look at the naïve mug of his), with magic more ancient and powerful than anything he'd ever crafted before. His hammer refused to answer after they had been strapped on, and Loki had the distinct pleasure to be staring at it.

He had the city. He was on his way to taking over the world, but he felt a distinct lack of something.

Something that should have been there, gnawing at his heart. Something that was both tangible and intangible.

Oh well. Loki thought as he looked out the window.

What did it matter?

It could just be that he was lacking the world.

He would fix that soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been playing around with the idea of writing a sequel. I have a general idea of what to write about but I need to understand some of the Marvel Characters a little better. At the moment I don't think I could do it justice, so maybe later. Far-future, later, unless I could find someone to help but idk my friends, I D K.


End file.
